Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy
by AntipodeanOpaleye
Summary: Set directly after Freak Nation. The transgenics have resolved to put up a fight, to wage war on the parties that pursue them. But, of course, such things are always easier said than done. MA NEW Chapter 6
1. Unconscious Mind

Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy  
  
By AntipodeanOpaleye  
  
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: All right, this is my first Dark Angel fic, and it's set a few days after Freak Nation. It has mistakes, I know that, and if you could kindly point them out, I'd greatly appreciate it. This is going to turn out as M/A, if you don't like that pairing, I suggest you don't read, though I will say that I'll do my best to avoid Logan bashing; though I don't mind reading it, I'm probably not going to write it. If you read it, please review it; I love feedback, good or bad, just as long as it's relayed tactfully.  
  
Also, if any one likes this fic enough, or is just completely obsessed with anything Dark Angel, I am looking for a beta reader. If you're interested, say so in a review.  
  
  
  
Chapter One: Unconscious Mind  
  
  
  
X5-494 was sitting in a cold, steel chair, arms and legs bound tightly. He was told to relax, that he'd be 'dealt with' soon enough. Somehow, at this point, he didn't find that prospect comforting. All he could think about was Rachel, and what he'd done to her.  
  
By now, everyone of importance at Manticore had heard of X5-494's horrible failure, and for the most part, the news was somewhat disturbing, as this was the first known nonsuccess of the soldier that was considered Manticore's Finest. But for some reason beyond his knowledge, 494 didn't give a shit what his superiors thought of this 'mishap.' Oh yeah, he'd have hell to pay, he'd known that before he'd deliberately disobeyed orders, but at this point, he simply didn't care.  
  
For the first time in his entire life, he felt that he'd done the right thing, that what he was being forced to do was wrong, and he'd finally had the initiative to try and make it right. But then, Rachel came to mind again, and at the mere thought of her his world came crashing down. The elated expression on her face when she saw him, the confusion as he'd explained why he was there; explained what he was. The fear in her eyes when she registered that she was his job, and undoubtedly the worst, the anger, the hate, the betrayal and the desperation that clouded her features, all directed to him. The woman that had shown him the first true love he'd ever known, the first true love he'd ever felt, and, ironically, been able to give back, even if it was a lie. That amazing woman was dead, as was her father, as far as 494 knew. And it was entirely his fault. It was all X5-494's fault.  
  
He heard the footsteps approaching the chamber minutes before the door opened, so it was not surprise when the sudden opening of the large door in the corner didn't seem to faze him. He simply continued to stare straight ahead and maintain the trademark blank look that all of Manticore's soldiers wore; a symbol of their blind loyalty and their oblivious mindset to the fact that they were slaves. 494 had become an expert at pasting that expression on at a moment's notice when needed. Little did he know that that very look would not only be used more than he could have imagined in the years to come, but would also prove harder to convincingly plaster onto his features.  
  
"Well, well, well, 494," said the woman with the platinum blonde hair, Renfro. He stared at her with a subtlety deadly gaze but remained silent. He refused to address unless he was forced to, refused to respect her after what she'd convinced him to do all of these years, refused to acknowledge her presence for what she'd help brainwash him to think, and to believe was correct, even if it was far from morally right. "You are quite the soldier from what I hear, but you seem to have a slight flaw," she paused to take a second to level herself with 494, so that she could look him in eye, stare him down face to face, "that has begun to cause us much distress." Renfro said this in the most sickening sweet voice and with the most adorable temperament a director of such a program would allow themselves to demonstrate, all in an attempt to get a reaction out of 494. So far, he hadn't shown any emotion since he'd been back at Manticore after the Berrisford Mission and the most his disposition had faltered was from a controlled, monotonous soldier to so deep in indecipherable individual thought that even the doctors and psychologists on site were intrigued. This display from Renfro failed to alter 494's status. Decisive on taking another approach at changing 494's nature, she took another shot.  
  
"I'll be frank with you 494, I know that you aren't the mindless soldier you've tried to lead us to believe you are. But other than that, you are near perfect. You are faster, stronger, more intellectually advanced, and so much more skillful. You are the embodiment of what Manticore has always hoped to create." She delivered this oration in her normally blunt tone. She had simply gave him the truth; he was Manticore's finest, and his current failure was very disturbing to The Committee. He seemed unconvinced, and he was, so she divulged more information to the subject in front of her.  
  
"I see you are not going to be easily swayed, 494. I assume you've heard of X5-599, one of our finest Commanding Officers, until he escaped. He was favored by many here at Manticore, yet there was one who was by far superior to him. You, 494, were and still are superior to 599, even if you had escaped at the same time as he with the same training as he and the others, you would have been by far superior. You are genetically superior to every one of Manticore's creations. Your most amazing trait is your evolved fighting abilities. You're able to use the simplest or the most complicated motions and add your own form to execute a quick victory over your opponent in such fluid movement, it's actually enjoyable to watch. You are the finest soldier we have. Do you want to know why 494?"  
  
Elizabeth Renfro crouched in front of 494, awaiting his answer. 'She'll have to wait,' he thought, 'cause there's no way in hell I'm giving her the satisfaction of having my attention.' 494 concentrated harder on the wall opposite him and remained wordless. Renfro was disappointed in his premeditated disobedience, so she cut the conversation short.  
  
"You, 494, are very unique. But, as you are so determined to undermine my authority, I'll leave you for Dr. Martier to deal with until our next meeting."  
  
Renfro shot Dr. Martier a very pointed look, tilting her head casually at 494, and quickly left. She undoubtedly took a position behind the double- sided mirror that graced the wall 494 had been studying during the entire encounter. Martier briskly strode over to a large, digitally locked glass cabinet to the left of 494's chair and quickly punched in the code. With his enhanced peripheral vision, 494 saw the code as '9709547'. After opening the compartment door, Martier took out a large syringe filled with a clear liquid. 494 recognized the serial number on the tube, '773'; it was a temporary Manticore-made relaxant that they used on their soldiers to make them react to inquisition without control over what they say. In other words, no matter how badly a soldier wanted to keep a matter undisclosed, if they were subjected to the relaxant, it would slowly eat away at them until the medication caused them to loose control. Once the subject had lost all bearing, the drug would take full affect, forcing the soldier tell the Manticore doctors anything they wanted to know, usually relaying the desired information in a very disrespectful fashion. The doctor slowly walked to 494's side, injecting the relaxant into his bloodstream at the wrist. 494 didn't try to resist the inoculation and was still throughout the entire process. 494 remained expressionless as Dr. Martier extracted the long needle and approached the desk next to the chair that he was bound in.  
  
"Well, 494, I have some questions I'd like to ask you before we get to your punishment." Martier said as her gently set the hypodermic aside. He sneered at 494, who continued to sit completely still. Martier knew perfectly well where to find the exact answer to every question he planned on asking, yet he was paid to ask the subject questions, in an attempt to weaken their concentration and defense so that the relaxant could take over. He sat down in the desk chair and sighed. "First, your designation and your Commanding Officer?" Martier tapped his pen rapidly against the clipboard on his lap.  
  
494 decided he'd oblige in answering the question, so he abandoned his train of thought, erased all emotion from his face, and spoke in an eerily hollow tone.  
  
"Commanding Officer X5-494." He deliberately left out the 'sir' at the end of his reply, which visibly angered Martier.  
  
"Your full history at Manticore, 494?"  
  
"Apart from basic Manticore training, participation in extensive instruction in Assassination, Field Medicine, Hand to Hand Combat, Battle Strategy, Weaponry, and Invasion was exceedingly successful. Mission specialty is Solo Missions. Special Solo Mission training includes Common Verbal Usage, as well as a variety of human interaction lessons and instruction in fine arts for Clandestine Solo Missions. One year spent in Psy-Ops for testing in comparison to the rouge X5-493 to confirm that 493's traitorous nature was not genetic. Successful completion of every solo mission, excepting the Berrisford Assignment." 494 stopped here, hitting a touchy subject that he didn't trust himself to continue with. He began to lose the ability to remain unconditionally emotionless, and his face fell momentarily at the thought of Rachel. He quickly wiped the devastation from his face and kept his eyes forward.  
  
"And what, 494, led to the failure of the Berrisford Assignment?"  
  
494 finally let his guard down, whipping his head around to face the doctor. This display, void entirely of any form of self-control and filled instead with emotions he wasn't even supposed to know of, let alone consciously feel, allowed the unbelievably strong relaxant he'd been injected with earlier take full control over 494's self-discipline. His eyes screamed of the self-doubt and misery that was killing 494 inside mingled with the pure hate that he felt toward the man in front of him and everything that man stood for. His fists were clenched, his knuckles white, displaying as much control as a Manticore soldier possessed, restraining himself from simply choking the man to death. His voice dripped with malice as he replied to Dr. Martier question that it made the doctor flinch.  
  
"I believe, Doctor, that it's none of your damn business what caused the mission to result in circumstances that you and your bastard superiors found unfavorable." 494 said pointedly, referring to himself as 'I' for the first time in the conversation. Manticore truly hated it when their soldiers thought as themselves as individuals worthy of anything more than a number and an occasional alias for solo missions. He shot Martier a bone chilling glare, getting angrier by the second.  
  
"Unfortunately enough for you, 494, it doesn't matter what you think. It only matters what I think, and I think that you should tell me what went wrong with the Berrisford Mission." Martier scowled, waiting expectantly for 494 to give up the disobedience and answer his question like a good little soldier. Then he remembered the relaxant's effects and an evil smirk creased the doctor's lips as he waited with renewed patience for 494's reply.  
  
"Nothing went wrong with the Berrisford Mission that was a result of my actions." 494's hostility had tripled, but he replied in a disturbingly casual manner. "I'm sure your confused, doctor. I think I'll be generous enough to explain. I tried to right the terrible wrong that was tainting the mission. Manticore resorted back to their old ways and screwed the mission over, along with my efforts to make the mission a success. So, in short, the assignments downfall was the fault of your own men."  
  
"And would you be so kind as to enlighten me by telling me what was so wrong with your mission requirements?"  
  
494 was apprehensive; he really wasn't sure if he should tell Dr. Martier his take on the situation. 'Hey, what the hell?' he thought. 'You've already pissed him off to the point of no return, why not finish the job?' So he slapped on a facial expression the screamed sarcasm and responded to the question.  
  
"Well now, doc," 494 drawled in his best smart-ass tone, "I'm just a lowly genetically engineered soldier in a covert government lab. Do you really want my opinion on such a hot topic?"  
  
"Yes, 494, I'm interested." It was obvious that Dr. Martier was in fact interested, and also about to loose his cool. He was turning red and beginning to sweat in anger. This brought a swift grin to 494's face.  
  
"Alright, Doc, here's the deal." 494's eyes swept over the man sitting at his side before he continued. "On the outside, in the 'real world', there are two main ways to categorize one's actions: Right or Wrong. On my Solo Mission, I learned a little more than even I would have liked to learn about "Right and Wrong." I didn't want to hear it, because if what they were saying was true, everything I'd ever done was morally wrong. But I heard it anyway, and I realized that once you know what right and wrong are, you're the only one who can decide in which way you wish to execute the tasks you're given. So, like I said, I tried to right the mission; I got the information that was needed, and then tried to prevent anyone from getting hurt unnecessarily. Only Manticore decided to put their two sense into the project and screw things up." He stopped here to think, and quickly added, "Yeah, that about covers it."  
  
As the relaxant began to wear off, as it tended to do somewhat quickly in the X series, 494 found himself momentarily surprised at the way he completely denied authority in such an openly disrespectful manor. In the past, he'd been pretty reliable when it came to discipline. The look on Dr. Martier's face when 494 was finished, however, deemed the entire process worthwhile, in his normal smart aleck opinion, which no one knew about, at least. Dr. Martier was shocked at the outspoken manner in which 494 had addressed him, even under the influence of the relaxant. 494 must have acquired an undisclosed, yet exceedingly flagrant personality on his solo missions for him to act so blatantly. The doctor was speechless, and as he remained so for the next few moments, 494 took the liberty to rekindle the predominately one-sided conversation.  
  
"So, doc, now that I'm done answering all of your little inquiries, can we move on to what your going to do to me? I'm thinking, reindoctrination?"  
  
It was a few moments before Dr. Martier responded to the soldier.  
  
"494," Martier addressed his subject harshly, yet incredibly amazed at the unknown progression of the subject from emotionless soldier to almost human. "You seem different. You aren't just a soldier. I think I could say you were almost human, excepting that barcode on you neck that labels you for who you really are. I'm not certified to continue with you, considering this new discovery in your personality. But, I am authorized to send you into isolation until we have the personnel to deal with your character defect." The doctor nonchalantly pressed a button on the desk and called for assistance in removing X5-494 from training and into isolation. 494 swallowed the lump in his throat; he'd heard about isolation, it was supposedly one of the worse forms of torture Manticore had thought up. He'd never been in it, but when one of the younger X5's in his squadron had been sent there for inattentive behavior when they were kids and came back after a month, he'd heard of the nightmares that became reality in that form of punishment. The victim had described the experiences so graphically; it was enough to stir fright in even the toughest soldier. Especially at night, as these were part of the after-hours talks 494 had secretly participated in his youth.  
  
494 shivered as he heard the back up enter the room and he tensed as he obediently allowed them to drag him away into the unknown. He allowed himself to drag lifelessly on the floor behind the men, his body being whipped around, violently smacking into the wall with every turn. When they'd finally reached their destination, the two men flanking 494 threw him into a small, empty compartment without light or ventilation, as far as he could see. The men closed and locked the door, forbidding all light from outside sources.  
  
494 began to feel a cold stab of fear, and he angrily kicked the floor. It was then that he heard a strange howl from below him, and the scratching of claws on the surface underneath. Without warning, a large paw broke the metal flooring and began to feel around its hole blindly. Instinctively, 494 got into his warrior mindset and quickly tore at the paw, becoming more violent by the second, and eventually ripped it off in fury. The creature yelped as 494 threw the appendage down the hole and moved to the far end of the room.  
  
He curled up in a ball in the corner, desolately preparing for the horrible things to come. Once again, Rachel came to mind, and a single silent teardrop ran down 494's face for the very first time. It was, at that point, the most frightening thing he'd ever experienced; to feel so lost and devastated. He screamed in agony, but knew that it was no use. He buried his head in his hands, not knowing how he was going to survive, only knowing that he had to. He had to.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
In a chemically hazardous section of Seattle known as Terminal City, the man named Alec woke with a start. What caused him to wake so fearfully was the most current of the many nightmares he had that forced him to relive his horrible past, the past that linked him the assassin, the murderer, the cold blooded killer that was still in the back of his mind. That connected him to the soldier he used to be, yet still very much was. That connected him to X5-494, and to Manticore.  
  
Alec's breathing was erratic and uneven, his heartbeat racing, sweat forming on his forehead. He tried to calm himself, but knew from experience that it was never that easy. He was having these dreams more and more frequently. He'd had very rarely when he'd just gotten out of Manticore, one or twice when he'd settled into Seattle, every so often when he'd moved in with Joshua, but never like this. He'd been having at about one every night since he'd moved into Terminal City with Josh, Mole, and the rest of the gang, as he was one of the few X's that slept almost every night. But now, two nights after the Jam Pony incident, he'd already outdone himself. He'd never seen his past so vividly, heard the words so clearly, never felt the pain so intensely. It genuinely scared him.  
  
'That's not the only thing scaring you.'  
  
Alec had been inwardly frightened over many issues lately. About Max, about her and Logan, about all of the transgenics, and most shockingly, his own sanity. He'd begun to feel things, like remorse, happiness, and real fear while he'd been on the outside, and they were strange at times, but now, he realized that there were other things bothering him. Like how he was always dreaming of his failures, and his most horrific experiences at Manticore. They all seemed to connect him to his long lost psycho-killing brother he'd never met, Ben. Not that anyone else knew about these thoughts, of course. Some suspected he wasn't as 'fine' as he seemed, but they couldn't prove it. The carefully erected mask Alec always wore barely faltered, and it fooled almost everyone. But today he was going to find a place where he could be alone, outside Terminal City, if at all possible, and try and sort through these thoughts. But first he had something he needed to take care of.  
  
Alec quietly made his way over to the chair near his bed where his clothes had been draped, grabbing his cell, rolling his eyes when he realized that it was only 12:52 AM. He quickly dressed in a black tee shirt and dark jeans. He slipped his leather jacket over his shoulders, ran a hand through his hair, and walked out the door. He took care to descend the stairs quietly as not to wake the other occupants of the building, including Max, Mole and Joshua, as well as a few more of Terminal City's occupants.  
  
Alec walked silently into Command, the usually bustling room now deserted excepting himself and the sleeping forms of Sketchy, Original Cindy, and Mr. Do-Gooder himself, Logan. Alec approached Logan and the others cautiously and gently shook them all awake.  
  
"Rise and shine," Alec said softly, waiting for each of them to wake up enough for him to explain why he was there. When each in turn acknowledged his presence, he finally clarified the reason he was there at one in the morning.  
  
"I hate to wake you all up at this hour," he said sincerely, as he'd been woken up so often by his plaguing nightmares and knew that it wasn't the best case scenario, "but if we're gonna get you out of here without attracting much attention." He paused and looked at the three distractedly, meeting their confused expressions. "You all know that you can't stay here. For health reasons mainly, but also because." He trailed off, trying to find a way to put his thoughts into words, "things are just going to get more and more dangerous, and some of the things that could happen are definitely not safe you any you." He glanced at them, Sketchy and OC nodding dejectedly. But Logan, no, he wasn't going to be led out of Terminal City so easily.  
  
"Alec," Logan said forcefully, his gaze showing the contempt he felt for the transgenic in front of him, "The blood transfusion from Joshua will prevent me from being effected by the chemicals. Anyway, I don't really think I should leave yet, you might need my help in the days to come."  
  
Alec was not in the mood. "Look, Logan, we can't afford to take the chance that immunity to bio-warfare wasn't one of the traits you acquired. You can contact us from Joshua's."  
  
"Alec," Logan retaliated, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself while I'm here. If I get sick, I'll leave then."  
  
"Look, Logan. I for one appreciate your help. But you aren't a transgenic. You aren't one of us. And if something happens, you may not be able to properly defend yourself. You have to leave, and you have to stay away, at least for now." Alec was preoccupied with his own problems, and didn't need to have Logan questioning him with his know-it-all attitude at the moment.  
  
"Alec," Logan reasoned, "I'm too involved with this mess not to stay. I just want to help, and if I'm willing to stay, I think you should stop fighting my motives and let me." Logan was getting a bit perturbed with Alec, and in the back of his mind thought that perhaps Alec wanted him out so that he could be alone with Max.  
  
"I'm not going to sit here and argue with you like a child, Logan. We need to leave now if you don't want to get caught by the vigilantes, and as you saw at Jam Pony, my bullet wound has hindered my fighting abilities, and as it still hasn't healed completely. We need to leave immediately so that we can avoid as much resistance at the exit as we can." Alec turned and motioned for them to follow him. He scurried unseen along the perimeter of Terminal City, looking back to make sure everyone kept up. Sketchy and OC looked depressed, yet conformed to the idea of leaving for their own good. Logan, on the other hand, had simply convinced himself that it was for the best if he left for now, and followed reluctantly.  
  
Alec reached the exit that he'd been headed for, one of the openings that only he knew of, on the southwest side of the City. It seemed that there were only a few people at this exit, ones that were apparently simply trekking a circular path around the area.  
  
"We try to get through without attracting their attention," Alec said to the others, not bothering to indicate whom he was speaking of. "If they see us, you three run in there," he pointed to a tall building across the way, one that he'd been to and knew for a fact was deserted, "and I'll take care of any spectators. You wait just inside the doors until I come and get you. Understand?" They all nodded and Alec began to sneak across the street along the wall of the nearest structure.  
  
Alec made it across first and Sketchy came next, both without any problem. OC looked at the men watching the perimeter and quickly dashed across. That left Logan, who glanced around as Original Cindy had, and began to run. Only his escape wasn't flawless as the others were. He still wore his exoskeleton, and the small noise it made attracted one of the nearer men's attention, and before Logan could reach the shadows, he was seen.  
  
"FREAKS!" The man screamed into the night and the other men turned and took a shot at a defenseless Logan.  
  
Alec ran out in a blur and shoved Logan toward OC and Sketchy before he could take a bullet, and managed to avoid getting shot himself. He ran to the nearest attacker, there was approximately five in all, grabbed his gun, flung in out of sight, and forcefully threw his body in to brick wall that stood behind him. The next three men were dealt with in similar ways all in the blink of an eye, yet the fifth offender was no normal human. He caught the eye of the middle-aged man and tilted his head questioningly, yet warily.  
  
"Transgenic slime! You unnatural piece of filth!" The man, obviously a Familiar, charged wildly at Alec, which was no surprise for the transgenic; he could read the man's intentions from the time that Alec had approached him.  
  
Alec and the Familiar moved fluidly, and they were each so knowledgeable in their fighting style that it was hard to get an attack in edgewise. Logan, OC, and Sketchy all watch him mesmerized. Not one of them had seen such a demonstration of sheer power.  
  
Alec skillfully blocked all of the Familiar's attacks, from an attempt at a powerful blow to his chest, enough to have at least broken a few ribs, to a close shave with a fist aimed at his face. He struck back with a combination of flawless and fluid motions, and almost half of them squarely hit the Familiar. Alec sidestepped the man's left hook and countered with a forceful blow to his stomach. The man doubled over from the momentum of the attack. Taking advantage of the Familiar's momentary lack of attention, Alec put the man in an unbreakable headlock and choked him for a few seconds to display his power.  
  
"What do you want from us? What do you want from 452?" Alec used Max's designation instead of her name as to avoid any misunderstanding on the Familiar's part. When the man remained silent, Alec tightened his grip on the man's neck and went for a less direct approach.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Alec asked, allowing his grasp on the Familiar's throat to slip so that the man could respond.  
  
"You'll find out," the man said mysteriously, and released himself from Alec's detached hold on him and ran toward the opening to Terminal City that Alec had just left.  
  
Alec couldn't control his next actions, so he thoughtlessly displayed to Logan, Original Cindy, and Sketchy why Alec was known as Manticore's Finest and a top-notch fighter back in the day.  
  
Alec lunged at the Familiar, grabbing him around the middle. He threw the man violently across the street and ran in a blur to where he landed. Alec mutilated his opponent, who refused to put up a fight, do to his shock at the position he was currently in. Alec nonchalantly broke the majority of his limbs, and then returned to the inquisition he'd left unfinished.  
  
"You'd think that snake blood would give you a little more stamina," Alec muttered sarcastically, but then he turned lethal. "I'll ask you again," Alec said in a deadly tone, "Why are you here?"  
  
"I can't tell you that, but you'll find soon enough what we want, and why."  
  
Alec grabbed the man's neck once again, only more forcefully this time.  
  
"That doesn't work for me." Alec had become frustrated. He knew this man had to have been watching the Transgenics, scouting the area, and reporting the information to the breeding cult. He couldn't be allowed to get away. "Any last words?" The man remained silent.  
  
As much as Alec didn't want to kill the man, as wrong as he knew it was, he felt that he had to. Too many of his own kind had fallen or critically wounded at the merciless hands of this man, and those like him. He couldn't live.  
  
Alec forced himself to break the man's neck with one intense movement, not knowing that he killed the Familiar by the same means his twin had been killed, and in the same mindset; wishing there was another way. He stood up with the dead man at his feet, wiped his face with his right forearm; the Familiar's blood mingled with the transgenic's sweat now smeared lightly on his arms. He hung his head, crossed his arms, and lifted his eyes to survey the scene. 'It had to be done,' he reminded himself.  
  
He forgot about the three ordinaries watching, forgot about anyone who may be coming to check the area at that very moment, forgot to be a soldier. He just looked around and saw, truly saw, what was happening to the world around him, the world that hated him, that he didn't belong in, and what that world was doing to his own kind.  
  
Looking at the men he'd knocked unconscious earlier, hoping that they'd come around, eventually, without too much disorientation, though not enough awareness to identify him, and then at the one dead man in front of him, Alec sighed. He felt guilty, sad, angry, and scared to hell all at the same time. If this was what a night watch had turned out to be, what would the days be like? And how long would the transgenics be able to hold out against an entire nation who wanted them dead? The thought triggered a mental image from when Biggs was killed, and the questions that had ran thought his head that night returned to him then. Why do they hate us? What did we ever do to them? Why do they want us dead so desperately? And most importantly, were they next? Would he, Max, and the others be the next to be killed and hung for public display? Some of the thoughts were juvenile, some were unanswerable, and some were irrelevant, but he still thought them nonetheless.  
  
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reluctantly pulled himself out of his personal reverie. He surveyed the scene once again, feeling that he should address the turmoil and chaos in some way. 'Damn Conscience,' Alec thought to himself, knowing that if it hadn't been for Max instilling such a thing into him, he'd be able to walk away with a feeling of uncertainty, one that had filled him during every mission after the Berrisford Assignment, but without openly addressing the situation. Not knowing any other appropriate approach, he stood at ease and, feeling that saluting was taking it too far, took one last look at the bodies around him, feeling uneasy at his reaction to the predicament. 'Get them home,' he thought, remembering the three people standing in the shadows, watching his every move, 'then you can sort out your own life.' He turned, and sauntered over to his charges, who had stayed outside of the building to watch Alec, disobeying his orders.  
  
  
  
'Orders don't mean the same thing to them as they do to you. They weren't punished if they didn't follow every order given to them, if they didn't execute a mission perfectly, if they didn't succeed.' It was then that Alec brought himself to look at the expressions on each of their faces.  
  
Original Cindy looked shocked at how her friend Alec so easily took control of such a situation, with such authority and command, but also a bit disturbed at how the whole thing played out.  
  
Sketchy was more shocked than OC, but looked actually excited to have a friend who could take someone out so smoothly and without a struggle.  
  
Logan, on the other hand, looked torn between a mixture of emotions, anger at Alec for not letting him fend for himself, gratitude toward Alec for saving his ass, shock at the way Alec had handled the situation, and confusion as to why Alec looked so guilty and embarrassed. After all, he'd probably just saved their lives.  
  
"Sorry you had to see that," Alec muttered, looking at his feet. "Let's get to Joshua's house before we attract any more unwanted attention." With that, Alec sidled in the direction of Josh's street.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
After about an hour of trekking through abandoned streets, dark alleys, and, Alec's personal favorite, the amazingly repulsive sewers, the group reached Joshua's house. Alec walked with them to door, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking down at his feet like a schoolboy. He was still uneasy with his display outside Terminal City. He said nothing as he waited for someone to enter the house, confirming that they had made it home safely. OC bravely broke the silence.  
  
"Alec," she said, concern lacing her words, "you take care of ya-self, ya hear?" She hugged him and, to her surprise, he returned the gesture. He looked her in the eye and, before letting go of her, said something he'd been wanting to since that day at Jam Pony.  
  
"OC?" He wasn't sure how to say it, so he winged it. "Thanks. Thanks, for everything. For accepting me, us, even when you knew what we were. Now, more than ever, it means a lot."  
  
She seemed taken aback at Alec's sudden and unwarranted display of gratitude, as clumsily as it had come across. She looked back at him, replying to his statement.  
  
"Alec, ya are who ya are. You, Max, even ya dog boy Joshua, you're family. Don't forget it."  
  
Alec nodded silently, not sure what to say, and feeling unbelievably awkward. He moved onto Sketchy.  
  
"Look, Sketch, I.I'm sorry for not telling you who, and what, I really was."  
  
"No sweat, Alec." Sketchy said to Alec, "It's all good."  
  
"Thanks," Alec said, bidding farewell to Sketchy as OC dragged him into the house, leaving Logan and Alec alone.  
  
"Alec," Logan made the first move, but Alec stopped him.  
  
"Logan, I know you wanted to stay in TC, but I think you of all people can understand all of the reasons why you can't. I've got somewhere to be, so I'll see ya round." Alec flew down the steps and out of sight in a few seconds, leaving Logan to stare after him, speechless, and finally walk into the house to join OC and Sketchy.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Alec had abruptly left Josh's house, truly wanting to get away from civilization for as long as possible in order to come to terms with what had become of his reality. And there was, of course, only one place in which this could be done properly, only one place where this could be executed appropriately. Without knowing where his body was leading him, Alec found himself staring up at a tall, almost intimidating creation. It seemed to be in the nature of X5's to be attracted to high places. He sighed deeply, and dejectedly climbed the oh-so-familiar Space Needle.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Should I keep going? Please Tell Me! I know this is a bit slow, but hey, there are very few first chapters that aren't. Also, I know Alec might seem a bit out of character, but just remember that 1.) He's thinking these things, they're completely private, and 2.) If Alec's confused with his thoughts, until he gets them sorted out, you will be too.  
  
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!  
  
-AntipodeanOpaleye 


	2. Memory

Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy  
  
By AntipodeanOpaleye  
  
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: Wow! I made it to chapter two! That is amazing! I apologize for the wait, this chapter wasn't exactly easy to write, as I found out part way through. Also, thanks to all that reviewed! I really appreciate it! It makes writing that much easier! As I've said before: This is going to turn out as M/A, if you don't like that pairing, I suggest you don't read, though I will say that I'll do my best to avoid Logan bashing; though I don't mind reading it, I'm probably not going to write it. And, as always, if you read it, please review it; I love feedback, good or bad, just as long as it's relayed tactfully. Ok, enough with the boring rambling from me, I hope you like this chapter!  
  
Also, if any one likes this fic enough, or is just completely obsessed with anything Dark Angel, I am looking for a beta reader. If you're interested, say so in a review.  
  
  
  
Chapter Two: Memory  
  
  
  
Alec sat there on the Needle; knees tucked up under his chin, deep in thought. He couldn't stay there long, he had to get back to Terminal City before he aroused suspicion, but hey, it was only about 2:45 AM, he could afford to stick around for a while. He took in his surroundings, jerking himself out of his thoughts, taking in the view of Seattle he had from there. For a broken city in a Post-Pulse country, it was somewhat beautiful.  
  
Maybe he should've left when he'd had the chance, back after he and Max had sent those kids off to Canada. Yeah, after they sent them off to Canada. He'd planned to leave right after Max had taken over the situation, but then White got her. How could he have just left her there for him to take apart? Exposure wasn't even a factor in his decision to go back and get her out. It wasn't even a decision, really. But he never regretted staying to help her then, contrary to popular belief.  
  
Then it'd been his turn to get picked up by Special Agent Ames White. It'd been his fault, of course, what with his cage fighting and such. And he was too damn, too damn, what? He was never a coward, never, and he prided himself in that. He was a competent man, he could take care of himself. But he'd never said he was fearless. And White, that first face-to-face meeting with him, scared him. Ames White was out to get the transgenics, he was out to kill every single one of Alec's kind. And at that time, that particular thought had frightened him. Things had changed since then, he no longer cowered from White, but at that point, death was coming, and if he could sweet talk his way out of it, he would. Alec had had too much experience with death not to be afraid. So he'd been stupid, made another deal with the Devil. Said he'd kill his own kind, out of his own fright, convinced White he was capable of doing so when he wasn't. And he'd been impulsive enough to believe White would just let him go kill these transgenics, no strings attached, and he'd be able to skip town before any one knew the difference.  
  
Instead, White decided to place a micro explosive on his brain stem to bind him to the deal. Undoubtedly, even if he managed to kill three transgenics in a day, White didn't have enough decency to disarm the explosive and save one of the abominations that he was trying to destroy. But he might as well take the chance that White might keep his word. 'And bring in their barcodes. Proof of Purchase.' He heard White's words over and over. A somewhat perverted notion, bring in the barcodes, but hey, who was Alec to question the motives of a madman?  
  
So, he started a hunt. He'd casually asked Max is she'd seen any transgenics lately, kept his cool. Then he found his first victim while helping to look for Joshua. He hadn't had much of a problem with "Cat Woman,' it'd been awkward, but he'd gone through with it.  
  
Then there was the, he was an X5, maybe an X6; he'd been obviously been a subordinate of Alec's back at Manticore, seeing as he'd obviously recognized him and had addressed him as 'sir.' That'd been difficult. The kid was only trying to make it on the outside, just like he was, and neither of them had a clue on exactly how to live outside Manticore. He didn't have the heart to kill the kid, so he just sliced off the kid's barcode, blindly hoping that White wouldn't notice, as his time was running out.  
  
And then he made the mistake of returning to ask for more time. Ask for more time, there's a laugh. And, of course, White had found out that he'd faltered, not being able to kill the young X he'd found. But Alec didn't give up, he just continued to plead for more time. He was denied. Oh, but what a marvelous consolation that the X would count towards his final total. He had a little over an hour to kill one more transgenic, and he had no clue where to find one. Might as well go find a bar a drown his sorrows until he died.  
  
But then he met up with Max. He'd tried to reason with her, tried to explain his situation to her, but she was too self-centered, too absorbed in her own problems, such as finding Joshua. Joshua. She had a lead on Joshua. It felt wrong, but it was the only way. The only way.  
  
He'd been ready. He was seriously going to kill Joshua. He'd been ready. But, of course, things couldn't work out. Joshua just happened to be the only transgenic without a barcode. And Alec needed a barcode to convince White. He started to finally except death and then,  
  
Max.  
  
  
  
He'd become obsessed with his own survival, his own well being. In a way, he was ready to kill her. But as he looked at her shaking form on the ground, as her looked into her eyes, breathing heavy, telling her that he didn't want to die, he snapped. He snapped, and for some strange reason he couldn't do it.  
  
'No, Alec. You know why you couldn't do it.'  
  
She'd taken him to the Manticore tech, the one who was curing her little virus so she and Logan could touch. He'd been short on cash, so Max had paid the difference, on account that he'd pay her back. But then the little weasel-like technician dropped the bomb; he was leaving town tonight, and Max had to choose whether she wanted him to finish her cure, or to save the notorious 'Smart Alec.' And she'd chosen to save him.  
  
He still wasn't sure why. Once he found out about her whole sibling thing, he thought it could be that she didn't want the death of another transgenic on her hands, even if he was an idiot. Then he'd found out about Ben, and he thought that maybe it was that she didn't want to she that face, lifeless once again. But the fact that it was him, in exchange for the chance to be with the man she loved, astounded him.  
  
She'd verbally bitch slapped him after he was in the clear, and told him to do her a favor, to go away. And so he did. But not before saying what was on his mind.  
  
  
  
"I'm sorry, Maxie. I'm so sorry. For everything," he whispered into the night.  
  
  
  
And he fell back into his thoughts of the past.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"You are an assassin, 494. Morally, you don't deserve to live."  
  
"You are the perfect killer, 494. You should be proud."  
  
"You're a lot like your brother, 494. 493 gained the same uncertainty as you have; the same uncertainty that is causing you to fail. If you don't change your ways, you will fall into the same habits as he did."  
  
And so the memories intensified.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"X5-494," a female Manticore lab technician harshly called his designation, interrupting a particularly brutal outdoor sparring match between 494 and another male transgenic that he didn't know the designation of. 494 was beating the hell out of the other X5, and delivered one last blow to powerfully finish off the opposition. 494 stood up, unfazed by the amazingly strenuous battle he had just won hands down. He looked down at his victim, who was visibly having trouble breathing. As this was the last training session of the day, he really wo0uld have reveled in disfiguring his opponent a bit more severely, but knew that it wouldn't be wise to completely ignore the call of 'authority.' At this point, 494 turned his attention to the Manticore tech.  
  
"494," she restated, and 494 folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head innocently, refusing to stand at attention and address her properly. She frowned at him, and met her with a very subtle pout that he'd perfected for no apparent reason in his spare time, along with a variety of other facial expressions that tended to work to his advantage with the Manticore technicians. The woman frowned again, but didn't comment on 494's display.  
  
"Director Renfro requests your presence." Wordlessly, 494 followed the woman into the main facility, and then into Renfro's office, which, incidentally, was opposite the barracks. The platinum blonde was sitting at a large desk at the back of the room. She glanced from the black laptop that she'd been typing furiously on to address them.  
  
"Thank you, Doctor," Renfro said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and the technician promptly left the room. As the door clicked shut, Renfro turned her full attention to 494.  
  
"State your designation," she said, her eyes burning into the transgenic.  
  
"X5-494, ma'am," 494 said in a blank tone, standing at attention, his eyes facing forward and void of emotion. She was the only one that he would address correctly, though she didn't deserve it. He addressed her suitably because, in a strange way, having some sort of an authority figure made him feel secure. He saw out of the corner of his eye something flicker on her face. Pride, perhaps? He didn't have time to dwell on it, because Renfro dove into conversation almost immediately.  
  
"494, it's been a while since I've had the pleasure of seeing you. When was the last time? The Berrisford Assignment? Yes, I believe that was it, though I've been informed that you've shown significant progress since then, especially seeing as you gave no signs that the reindoctrination process had had any effect on you. We many never know." She'd been circling him through this entire oration, like a vulture enclosing its prey, and it was beginning to annoy 494. He was expected to stand at attention until order otherwise when in the Director's, presence, but to display his irritation, he relaxed, which stopped Renfro dead in her tracks. She smiled cryptically at 494 before continuing, and remaining in one spot.  
  
"494, what do you know of coupled transgenics in the X Series?"  
  
494 searched her features for a clue as to what form of answer she was looking for, but could find none. He dove in blindly, hoping that his efforts would impress the Director.  
  
"My knowledge of twinned X5's is very limited, ma'am," 494 said blankly, though he eyed Renfro suspiciously as he continues. "I do know that they share select genetic combinations and well as appearance, and have similar designations." He left out any knowledge of his own twin, X5-493, though it was obvious that he knew of 493. How could he have gone through his Psy-Ops visit without figuring out why he'd been there?  
  
"Very nice, 494." Renfro said, her voice impressed yet dripping with sarcasm at the same time. It sent a chill through 494, though a spectator wouldn't have been able to tell. He straightened as she sighed deeply and resumed speaking.  
  
"494," she said authoritatively, "are you aware of the current status of X5- 493?"  
  
"X5-493 escaped in from his facility 2009, along with X5-734, X5-210, X5- 471, X5-452, X5-701, X5-656, X5-205, and X5-599, all of whom were the only successful Manticore escapees that I am aware of. X5-493 was never recaptured, and, to the extent of my knowledge, his current whereabouts are unknown." 494 was curious as to what was so important about 493's location and status. He was a rogue transgenic, and an insubordinate soldier was of no use to Manticore. Even reindoctrination might not be enough to instill blind discipline into one that had betrayed Manticore so flagrantly. And what the hell was she asking him for?  
  
"X5-493 is deceased, 494," Renfro stated bluntly, much to the surprise of 494. His eyes widened momentarily at the report, only to recede back into emptiness seconds later. Renfro continued, oblivious of this change in expression.  
  
"He was found dead in a wooded area outside of Manticore. Cause of death was deemed an intentionally dismembered neck. But that is unimportant." She paused, her eyes burning into 494's face as she arched her head slightly in order to see him clearly. "Did you know that 493 was what Manticore consultants would define as insane?"  
  
494's expression visibly changed now, and Renfro would've had to be blind not to notice. He slowly shifted his gaze downward to meet the shorter woman's gaze in a more personal way. His eyes widened as he abandoned his semi-formal stance to rub the bridge of his nose in dreading anticipation of what was to come of this conversation and to absentmindedly run a nervous strand of fingers through his sweaty, dirty blonde hair. After doing so, he crossed his arms and addressed Renfro's obviously rhetorical, yet unanswered question.  
  
"I was unaware of X5-493's mental instability until now, ma'am."  
  
"Of course you were, 494," Renfro barked agitatedly. She looked at 494 again, trying to see something past the emotionless soldier that was standing in front of her. Finding no indication of any thought from 494, she sighed and settled for an instinctive inquisition instead of the more informed questioning that she was hoping for.  
  
"You know where this is going, don't you 494?" she asked, in he characteristic sickening sweet voice that dripped with mocking. He knew she wanted a straightforward answer, so that is what he provided her with.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he stated softly, "I have an informed opinion of what this conversation is leading to."  
  
Renfro nodded. "Seeing that your DNA is twinned with that of 494, we're going to need to take you into Psy-Ops for more in-depth psychological evaluation than that you received after the '09 escape. Plan on an extended absence from daily training. As this is a pressing matter, but not exceedingly urgent, I suggest you return to the barracks, give any remaining orders, or revise any standing orders in light of this situation, in the case of your unit. I expect you to report back here tomorrow morning at the standard arousal hour."  
  
494 didn't need to be told twice. He saluted the Director obediently, and promptly left for the barracks. He was hoping that they'd be deserted, so that he wouldn't have to waste time explaining anything to his unit, but, unfortunately, three soldiers were in the barracks when 494 arrived. Two of them, the female X5-717 and the male X5-891, saluted 494, their Commanding Officer, and quickly left for some sort of training; weapons if 494 wasn't mistaken. After they had gone, 494 looked down at the remaining transgenic. You couldn't tell at first glance, but he was different from the others. He was the only one that 494 had really become, well, friends with. They were more like brothers, more like family, regardless of the fact that Manticore highly disapproved of such emotional bonding. His designation, X5-521, had been long discarded by 494, in fact, 494 could still remember the day that the transgenic had disregarded his bar-coded identity.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Soldier!" 494 had shouted at the young transgenic. He was 13, at least, 494 thought he was 13. Not that the boy's age had anything to do with the situation at hand. He'd been displaying disobedience since his last Solo Mission and, at this point, 494 was required to speak with him privately. "What is this traitorous notion of yours to neglect your Manticore given identity?"  
  
The boy looked up at 494, decidedly meeting his eyes. "They don't have numbers on the outside. They have names. Why else do they give us aliases for Solo missions?"  
  
494 was shocked. Not only at this boy's obvious problem with his authority, but at his resolve to be his own person. 494 knew that the individuals Manticore had made them into were something to be proud of, but this boy did have a valid point. The boy continued before 494 could retaliate.  
  
"For example, when I went to Los Angeles for a mission last month, I was Michael Biggs. Why aren't we numbers on the outside if Manticore isn't hiding reality from us? I don't care what anyone else says; from now on, I'm Biggs, at least when no one else is around, like Manticore Techs, or Lydecker. Lydecker when he abandons his precious Gillette children to supervise us, that is. " "Biggs said with distaste. He looked ready to elaborate on the topic, but thought better of it.  
  
He was decided, and obviously pissed at Lydecker, and 494 knew that he couldn't change the boy's mind, especially if he wasn't thinking clearly due to his aggression.  
  
"As you wish. Biggs it is. But in private only, no one else will know, not Manticore, not the other soldiers, not even the rest of our unit. This is between us." 'Biggs' nodded, understanding the consequences they would both face if anyone found out, and seeming to accept this compromise willingly. Security was tightening more and more since to '09 escape. After that night, 494 began to use his spare time to some up with his own name, yet such efforts had been abandoned after the Berrisford Mission. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of individuality; it was just that he didn't need Manticore breathing down his throat if he could help it. Besides, he had more important things to worry about now..  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Now, approximately seven years after that occurrence, 494 was brought back to reality. He met Biggs's gaze as he slumped into his bunk, throwing his head backward in frustration.  
  
"Hey man," Biggs said, "I haven't seen you this depressed since you got back from your extended stay in isolation." Biggs was trying to lighten the mood, but was obviously concerned about his best friend's melancholy state. Much more serious now, Biggs continued cautiously. "What's up?"  
  
494 sighed dejectedly. "They're sending me back to Psy-Ops, man, all because of that bastard twin of mine, 493. He went psycho on the outside, and they're just waiting to find a genetic link to his mental instability in his unfortunate double."  
  
"Jeeze, bro, that's harsh. Did they say how long you'd be there?" Biggs' voice lowered to an inaudible whisper, able to be heard only by the enhanced hearing that all transgenics shared.  
  
"Renfro said to expect a long vacation from daily training. I was ready to kill the blonde bitch by that point."  
  
Suddenly, 494 sat bolt upright, eyes widening in an unspoken anxiousness that surprised Biggs. He knew that 494 would show emotion around him, though not around anyone else, but never to such an extreme.  
  
"Biggs?" he asked tentatively, his voice a trembling whisper that 494 had acquired after the Berrisford Mission. Biggs had never heard him so desperate, but he knew this tone must be signaling that 494 was, in short, terrified more than words could express. Biggs directed his attention to 494, curious as to what had cracked his usually composed friend. 494 swallowed hard and continued.  
  
"Do, do you think they'll get rid of me? I mean, they've been really close to it before, or at least, they'd do stuff to me that they hoped would kill me, that should've killed me. Do you think they'll just up and finish the job this time?"  
  
Biggs was obviously shocked at 494's open panic, though he his it well. 494 was the light-hearted, up-beat, smart ass Commanding Officer that everyone knew and, in some strange military sense, loved. It scared Biggs to see him like this, but he knew that if he didn't help to reassure his friend, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, especially if 494 was indeed killed in the near future.  
  
"It's gonna be all right, man, trust me." Biggs tried his best to sound convincing. He was unnerved by his friend's instability, but felt that he had to say something. He'd never seen 494 so. vulnerable. Oh sure, he'd seen "emotionless", frustrated, nervous, unsure, and, most frequently, royally pissed off, but never so lost. He looked sick, maybe it was it was because he'd so gone pale, Biggs wasn't sure.  
  
"Biggs?" 494 asked again. Biggs looked almost afraid of what would follow. "Could you do me a favor?"  
  
"Yeah man, anything," Biggs croaked.  
  
494's eyes brightened visibly as he continued. "You were always, so, so," 494 searched for the suitable term, going on without indicating his aforementioned request. "You were always so different. Even when we were little. I remember when that guard insulted your fighting style, what were we, 13 or so? 14 maybe? And you just blew up and, I guess you'd heard the guards say it, or something, but you told that guard to "Screw Yourself, Asshole," if I remember correctly. Promptly knocking him out afterwards, of course." 494 stopped and smirked at the mental image the memory produced. Unfortunately, Biggs took the pause as an invitation to speak.  
  
"Yeah," he said pointedly, "but when the Sub-Director arrived for her daily inspection, and she found her guard knocked unconscious, she wasn't too happy. I thought I was going into reindoc for sure. She was pissed.."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Soldiers!" Sub Director Davis shouted at the unit of X5s that had been temporarily left unsupervised on the training field. She was obviously appalled at the lack of order. The soldiers immediately stood at attention once noting her presence. She strode in front of the group agitatedly, eyeing each of them suspiciously. Her gaze settled on Biggs, then moved reluctantly to each of the other soldiers in turn. She turned back to Biggs who was situated at one end of the line of fourteen. 494 was at the opposite end of the line.  
  
"State your designation," she barked. At the words, Biggs tensed, but quickly complied.  
  
"X5-521," he said clearly, and Davis moved to the soldier to his right. Her gaze immediately requested the same revelation of the next genetically enhanced warrior.  
  
"X5-717," she said.  
  
Down the line the Sub Director went each of the soldiers yelling out their respective designations.  
  
"X5-534!"  
  
"X5-762!"  
  
"X5-647!"  
  
"X5-891!"  
  
"X5-576!"  
  
"X5-787!"  
  
"X5-583!"  
  
"X5-811!"  
  
"X5-629!"  
  
"X5-825!"  
  
"X5-746!"  
  
"X5-494!"  
  
Davis look at 494 curiously.  
  
"494, is it?" she questioned him, and he simply eyed her silently.  
  
"Which of you serves as Commanding Officer of this unit?" she barked, and 494 strode forward. Davis eyed him again.  
  
"Commanding Officer X5-494," he shouted.  
  
"494," Davis sneered, "I'd like to have a word with you."  
  
494 followed the Sub Director out of the area, many curious and even apprehensive gazes tailing him from the other X5s in his unit. Hell, he wasn't looking forward to 'having a word' with the Sub Director either, but he marched behind her, expressionless, secretly shooting reassuring glances at a select few of the soldiers.  
  
762 was one of the more human soldiers in his unit, or, at least, she let her humanity show more. Her eyes had grown wide at the sight of her Commanding Officer being taken away once again, leaving her without any form of stability. She was an outcast in the unit, but 494 had always tried to make her feel useful. On his way out, 494 flashed one of his priceless smiles at her, and she visibly relaxed at the gesture.  
  
494 walked farther down the line and passed 787. 787 was a wonderful soldier. He was perfect or near it in almost every aspect of training. Almost. He had only one flaw. He had trouble with the main aspect of Manticore: assassination. Of course, he'd killed, but he wasn't as composed about such an act as the others were. Most of the soldiers killed because Manticore had told them to, and Manticore was the law, Manticore was everything, Manticore was life. 787 killed because if he didn't, one way or another, he'd be the one who ended up dead. After every kill, he'd become silent and closed off, even more so than a Manticore soldier usually was. But 494 always tried to pull him out of it, to break him out of his own prison. He'd talk him out of it eventually, only to be met with the same challenge sometimes only days later. 494 passed 787, whose face was blank but his eyes were posing an infinite number of questions to his Commanding Officer. 494 looked at him and nodded, seeming to answer 787's unspoken inquiry. He gave him a subtle grin, and continued to walk.  
  
At the end of the line, 494 made eye contact with Biggs. Biggs had gone a bit pale; knowing that 494 was on thin ice with the Manticore administrators, and only being able to imagine what was in store for 494 after this. He was trembling slightly; obviously remorseful for his thoughtless display, which had led to this occurrence. 494 stared at Biggs for a long time, almost pausing to do so. As he passed in front of Biggs, 494 muttered a request, in an inaudible whisper that only the closest transgenic would be able to decipher.  
  
"Take care of things while I'm gone."  
  
Biggs nodded solemnly. He looked taken aback at 494's blunt plea, and confused as well; 494 hadn't done anything, why should he be gone for long? But he was resolute to carry out his new duty. 494 continued to follow the Sub Director obediently, and was soon out of sight of the rest of the unit.  
  
Davis led 494 away from the training area to a small, enclosed research facility on the grounds, which had been cleared out when a new one had been built in the main facility. She opened the unlocked door and walked in with 494 at her heels. She slammed the door and locked from the inside, turning to face 494.  
  
"So, X5-494? You're twinned with one of the '09 escapees?"  
  
"Yes ma'am. My DNA is twinned with that of X5-493 of the '09 escape."  
  
"Interesting, 494, very interesting."  
  
494 stood motionless as the Sub Director evaluated him silently.  
  
"Exactly how, 494, was your unit's guard attacked, and under what circumstances?"  
  
494 was momentarily surprised that she didn't simply demand a straight-out explanation from him, but recovered immediately, realizing her approach. 494 assumed that she was going to ask him irrelevant questions, avoiding the obvious topic of discussion, trying to get him to divulge as much true information as she could. He didn't blame her; there was never any proof against him, but there'd been many incidences in the past, though minor compared to the one at present, where 494 had been suspected of taking the fall for his unit, and lying to authority in order to do so. But he wouldn't conform to her tactics, he couldn't, or else Manticore would win, and that wasn't acceptable.  
  
"The said guard was attacked after provocation in the form of a insult of the X5 fighting style, of which we have been instructed to take immeasurable pride in; to always hone our skills to perfection. We have done so, and feel that it is intolerable to have our abilities slandered."  
  
Sub Director Davis smirked malevolently at 494's false obedience. If she didn't know better, she'd probably think that he really was the perfect soldier, both physically and mentally. His display was flawless, and exceedingly convincing. The only deterring factor was his slightly marred record, defaced by his numerous suspensions from training for moderate isolated punishment after undoubtedly protecting his unit from their own insubordination.  
  
"494, don't think I don't know that you will falsely testify to my authority in order to protect your unit. It's something you've been known to do, protect. I'm not sure why, but as it's been proven that you are a loyal Manticore soldier, it doesn't worry me to any extreme. So, I'll ask you one more question, just one, and I want a single designation from you. I don't care which it is, or even if it is truthful, but it is protocol that I punish at least one soldier for such a display." She paused briefly, for dramatic effect, 494 assumed, but continued.  
  
"Which soldier attacked their guard during a the brief period they were unsupervised during training?"  
  
"Commanding Officer X5-494, ma'am." 494 answered without hesitation.  
  
"Well, 494," Davis said, seeming a bit bewildered at his willingness to possibly sacrifice his own well-being for the safety of his unit, "looks like you'll be spending another week or so in confined punishment. I may even have to heighten the level from moderate to extensive. But look on the bright side, 494, at least it's not Psy-Ops, or Reindoctrination."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
494 tensed at the mention of the past occurrence, and at the memory that flashed through his head. He'd never let his unit realize that he's taken the blame for their mistakes; the mere thought of it made him feel, well, it made him feel strange. Biggs wasn't to be fooled so easily, though.  
  
"What is it man?" Biggs asked obliviously. "I mean, they said that you were in for Officer Training for those next two weeks, that you'd be gone." Realization finally dawned upon Biggs as he slowly came to comprehend that 494 hadn't attended any type of training during that time. "I wondered why you looked so sick when you came back, I thought that is was just the training, that it had been more intense than usual." Biggs swallowed hard before posing the obvious question. "You took the fall for me, didn't you?"  
  
494 just stared at him, his eyes relaying any answer that Biggs was looking for. Biggs didn't stop there, though. "It wasn't the first time, though, was it?"  
  
"No," 494 said quietly, "it wasn't the first. Far from it, in fact."  
  
Biggs didn't need to ask his friend what had happened during each of situations in which 494 had taken the blame for one of them; he a good idea without any confirmation. But he wasn't silent.  
  
"Why?" Biggs croaked. 494 looked at him questioningly, so he clarified his inquisition. "Why'd you protect us? Why did you put yourself through that for us?" Biggs was getting angry, intertwining his fingers and staring at the ground. If 494 had taken the wrath for everything their unit had just thought of as a 'lucky break' from punishment, he'd been through more of Manticore's shit than Biggs had previously imagined as survivable.  
  
Hell, 494 had been in Psy-Ops for six months when they were nine, being the twin of an '09 escapee, and then with the extra disciplinary measures they took to avoid another escape on top of that? It was enough to make even an X5 go off the deep end. Biggs had even heard of a few of the X5s who had gone through the same thing after the escape and actually had gone crazy. They'd been deemed defective, of course, and joined the rest of the defective X's, or so he'd heard. But it didn't stop there for 494, no; he'd obviously taken the blame for his unit innumerable times, and in consequence, had endured the subsequent punishments. Damn, then there was the Berrisford thing just recently, that was harsh. Biggs had later found out that he's spent three weeks in isolation, a Manticore record, and had been shipped directly to reindoctrination in no condition to be prodded at. But that didn't matter to any of the staff down there. After he's been brainwashed to satisfaction; it had taken a few months, but 494 hadn't been able to keep track of time very well while there; he was sent to Psy-Ops, and his stay there was far from bearable, and even Director Renfro was surprised he'd survived.  
  
"Why'd you put your own life on the line for ours?" Biggs suddenly broke the silence again, staring his friend straight in the eye, demanding an answer from him. Demanding the truth.  
  
494 sighed. "That was never an issue. I was your Commanding Officer, I still am. I take care of this unit, these people. Your lives go before mine without question; that's my duty. But, it was more than that. By then, I'd become, protective, I guess, of all of you. I didn't want to see any of you hurt in the ways I knew they would hurt you; I didn't want any of you to see the things I'd already been forced to see. So I figured, if I could keep just one more soldier from being subjected to the pain, the torture, and the fear, I just thought that it would be better that way. In my mind, it was never my worth compared to yours, that was never a question. It was different, I don't know how to explain it. But, I guess I did what I did out of, a, a sense of family, and, I guess, I guess," 494 tried to avoid finishing the statement, embarrassed by the emotions triggered by the conversation. He felt cornered, and he didn't like it. But Biggs wouldn't let get him out so easily.  
  
"What was it?" he asked forcefully. "Was it duty? Was it guilt? Was it compassion? What?"  
  
494's eyes shot up at the last suggestion. "I, I, I guess it was. I guess that's what it is. Compassion."  
  
Biggs nodded. For some reason, it felt good to hear his friend admit such feelings, to admit to his own humanity. He stared at his friend hard, an uncomfortable silence settling between them, each man deeply immersed in thought. Thinking of the past, of their childhood, of the present situation they were both in, and of what in the hell would go wrong in the future. Which trigged a vocalization from one of the young men.  
  
"You never finished," Biggs whispered tentatively. 494's head snapped upward to stare at his friend, and after a few moments, he finally responded to Biggs statement.  
  
"Wha, what?" 494 knew exactly what Biggs was hinting at, but after everything that had just transpired, and the memories and emotions that had been triggered, he wasn't sure if he had the energy or the will to continue with his previous train of thought.  
  
"Earlier," Biggs said without meeting 494's eyes, "you asked me if I could do you a favor. What did you want?"  
  
494 was silent for a while, contemplating whether or not to address the issue. He felt torn. He seriously didn't want to get into this now, and regretted even mentioning anything along the lines of request from Biggs. Sure, he was close with Biggs, but 494 didn't depend on anything, or anyone, for anything; why should he start now? He didn't need anyone, he never did, except.  
  
No, he didn't need anyone.  
  
  
  
But then, on the other hand, he was preparing to walk into the unknown depths of Manticore in merely minutes and, though that aspect of his situation didn't bother him too badly, the fact the he may die, and no one would ever give a shit, no one would ever care, terrified him. Hell, the fact that he was so terrified? That terrified him even more. Oh, and the fact that he was a twenty year old genetically engineered soldier worrying about his impending death because his twin had become a murdering psychopath? That was terrifying too. After resolving not to think excessively over the more frightening aspects of his life, 494 returned to his original train of thought.  
  
He was approaching almost certain death, or at least, torture no being would want to live through. What would it matter if he actually depended on someone to do something for him, especially if he was incapable of doing it himself? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.  
  
"What did you want?" Biggs asked again, more urgently.  
  
494 sighed. "You know that I don't depend on other people to do what I can do better myself," he flashed one of his trademark gins at that point, thought it was obviously forced. "But, you're different, and I know that I can trust you with this. And it's going to sound extremely, well, childish, and wishful, but it's something that I need you to at least try to do for me."  
  
Biggs nodded, just wanting 494 to get on with it, but knowing better than to piss him off by saying anything.  
  
"If you ever get a chance to, you know, get out in the world, live your own life, live free, without Manticore on your ass, live it up." Biggs looked confused, so 494 continued. "I always thought that it'd be really great on the outside. You know; do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted, all day every day. Free to do your own thing; go hang out, charm the ladies, drink enough to get a pretty heavy hangover, and sleep until whenever the next morning. It'd be like a permanent deep cover mission, just that you'd never have to check in with anyone, or give your mission status to any of your superiors. There wouldn't be any superiors." 494 glanced over at Biggs, who seemed to be immersed in the possibilities of 494's description of life on the outside. Smiling slightly at his friend's reaction, he continued.  
  
"But after the everything with Ra- I mean, the Berrisford Mission," 494 had never described his relationship with Rachel in any depth or detail with Biggs, though it'd been mentioned many times between them. "I guess I just realized, for the first time, that there was more to life than orders, punishments, and designations, but there was also more to life than my ideas of girls, parties, and enjoyment. I know it sounds crazy, I mean, ideally, who wouldn't want a life full of that, without any accountability for anything? But, when you think about it, considering what we really know about the outside, what would life be without responsibility, expectations from yourself and those around you, commitment? The things that are worth having are worth working for. It sounds cliché, but it's true. The best things in life take loyalty and dedication, and they involve a lot of risks. But that's just my view on things." 494 seemed embarrassed at his small oration on such a topic, but continued softly.  
  
"Biggs, if you ever get out, live life to the fullest. Make a real life for yourself, start fresh. Enjoy life as people are meant to enjoy it. Enjoy what we've been deprived of since birth. Because I don't think I'll ever get the chance to." He continued to stare at the floor in silence after that. After a few tense moments, Biggs broke the wordlessness.  
  
"I will." Biggs said simply, though his voice was distant. "I swear I will."  
  
494 looked a bit taken aback at Biggs's quick consent, and at his serious disposition towards 494's horribly childish request. Not knowing exactly what to say, he simply said, "Thank you."  
  
Biggs nodded in response, and muttered a barely audible "No problem," to 494.  
  
494 rose to his feet, smoothing out his camouflage military pants and ruffling his hair. He approached Biggs, who had also resumed at standing position. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged before meeting the other young man's eyes.  
  
"Don't come back dead," Biggs said simply.  
  
"Not a chance," 494 replied just as casually.  
  
"And be ready for anything, you never know what they might do," Biggs's nonchalant demeanor had faded to reveal an adolescent vulnerability that he, just as the majority of the X Series, rarely gave in to.  
  
"Always," 494 said wryly, though both of them knew the matter was very far from amusing or ever lighthearted.  
  
Biggs looked down at the floor after briefly making eye contact with 494. He was scared, just plain scared. Scared for his friend, scared for his unit, and scared for his own life.  
  
Hell, 494 had kept their entire unit from falling into total and utter chaos; he was the one who kept 762's human nature in check around the guards, and then in the off hours prevented her from inevitably sinking into the secluded role of the outcast.  
  
Then there was 787, who would self-destruct if 494 wasn't there to pull him up when he hit rock bottom after a kill.  
  
Next there was 629, who was a real ass to everyone except his C.O., which of course, was 494. He wouldn't listen to anything anyone had to say, unless 494 was listening or had instructed him to do so.  
  
534 was a sweet little assassin; she was as cold blooded as they came, in Biggs's opinion, but 494 had always been able to piss her off in a way in which forced her to show some emotion, yet not kill her Commanding Officer in rage. It was always amusing to see the two of them go at it.  
  
But seriously, what were they going to do without 494 around? Even if it was only a temporary absence, which Biggs highly doubted, things were sure to get out of control amongst their unit. He could see it now, 787 getting deemed defective and thrown with anomalies and all of the other defective Xs, while 762 slumped into some sort of transgenic depression, while 629 pissed everyone off to the point where 534, the killing machine, was forced to rip his head off, literally.  
  
They wouldn't even be granted the safe haven of Psy-Ops; they'd go down with the X2s, most likely. It sounded exaggerated, but seriously, once you thought about it, they hardly had a chance of survival without 494 around to keep them in check.  
  
"I'll have to tell the others," 494 in a strangely trance-like tone, as of he wasn't truly living this reality. "They come back to the barracks soon, right?"  
  
Biggs nodded distractedly. They sat in silence until the rest of their unit had returned.  
  
  
  
"Fall in, soldiers," 494 commanded halfheartedly. He took in the thirteen young faces staring at him, standing at attention. He sighed in exasperation.  
  
"I'm going to be," 494 paused, unsure whether or not to disclose the honest reason of his impending absence or to come up with a witty lie to entertain his unit. Biggs wouldn't tell anyone the truth, not if 494 didn't say anything first. That wouldn't be a bad idea.  
  
"I'm being sent into a deep cover mission early tomorrow morning," 494 said convincingly, though Biggs shot him a discreet, though questioning, glance, which he caught out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"I may or may not return," he continued, "and if and when I do, it may be quite some time from now. Manticore authority will undoubtedly attempt to assign a replacement Commanding Officer for this unit, but I'm leaving standing orders that your temporary Commanding Officer be of my choosing."  
  
494 again paused here, taking in each and every member of his unit. He knew perfectly well who was going to take his place, but he felt like giving a long, dramatic, drawn out farewell speech. It amused him slightly, and he felt that any amusement on the brink of death was a good thing, and should be experienced at any cost.  
  
"Your Commanding Officer until my return will be X5-521," 494 eyed Biggs as he gave the order that made him C.O., but he looked far from surprised. He'd obviously been expecting this, but 494 could've sworn he saw Biggs smile slightly at the new task he'd been given.  
  
"I want every one of you to obey and respect 521 as you have myself. And 521 will undoubtedly take care of any problems or situation that arise." 494 was referring to each of the soldiers unique 'tendencies' and 'problems,' and Biggs nodded in affirmation, confirming that he could in fact handle the quirks of their unit.  
  
"I'm seriously skeptical of the prospect of my return," 494 embellished, in order to make it believable when he was either murdered in Psy-Ops or died of extensive torture. "But I expect that if I do return, I'll be impressed with your status.  
  
"Sir?" X5-629 asked tentatively. 494 approached him and stood with his arms crossed. He was drew himself up to his full height, to ensure that 629 was aware of his undeniable power. 629 swallowed hard, but stood his ground.  
  
"Are you at liberty to share your mission parameters, in order to clarify the situation involving your absence?"  
  
'Nice move, you nosy ass bastard," 494 thought amusedly. 629 had always been able to push any limits set for him with out breaking them, or even noticeably bending them. He had that gift of false innocence, like 494 had himself, only no one suspected 629's 'innocence' to be inadequate.  
  
"I unfortunately am not able to indulge such information at this time. All that I can say is that it is very important that this mission be completed, though it may take the lives of many soldiers. And if my life is one of those taken, so be it." God, he was somewhat enjoying making this little mission up. It was serving to effectively take his mind off other, more serious things.  
  
"All right soldiers; report to your respective quarters for lights out," 494 sighed. The soldiers saluted 494 and one by one, left as commanded. Biggs looked over his shoulder at his Commanding Officer, his friend, his brother, and nodded reassuringly. He then followed suit and exited.  
  
494 stayed behind, looking around the room, taking it in. He was alone now, as he always was, always had been. He'd always though of it as both a blessing and a curse, loneliness. And that it was. To be alone means to have no companionship, no communication, no love. But to be alone also means no one to worry about, no one to care for, no one to feel responsible for, to feel emotions for. He still was unsure which was the more overbearing aspect of loneliness, the blessing or the curse, but such an answer still eluded him. He closed his eyes briefly before retreating into his own quarters for what would most likely prove to be the last time.  
  
Shortly after lying on the pull out cot, 494 was greeted with the familiar 'Lights out, 494" from one of the sentry guards. And at that point he began to drift off to sleep.  
  
One might think that it would be impossible to sleep under such circumstances, that the fear would be too great, the monstrous thoughts too oppressive. But for 494, it didn't matter. It was hell either way. He only assumed that it would be in his favor to be at his best to face whatever Manticore was preparing to throw at him the next day. And so he slept, the demons awaking and taking over in his slumber.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Back in Terminal City, Max Guevara sat on the edge of her bed. She hadn't slept that night, though she probably could have do to all of the things going on lately. But it was too late to try to sleep now, even if she'd wanted to. It was almost 4:00 AM, and she wanted to get down to Command and see talk with Dix, Luke, Mole, Leg, and all of the others about what they planned on doing in the coming days on the transgenic front. But she really wanted to talk to Alec. She was comfortable with Alec, as she was with the others. But there was something different about him, something that allowed her to talk to him easily, without fear of saying the wrong thing. And besides, Alec did have 10 years of training on her, and he always struck her as a very knowledgeable soldier, even if she could kick his ass. She considered going down now, even though it was quesitonable that anyone could be there, because everyone had gone to their apartments in TC the pervious night to sleep or just get away, but she decided against going then. Too many things were going through her mind at too blinding of a speed to be able to halt them.  
  
This whole transgenic stand off was going to get ugly. She could feel it. White and his cult loonies weren't going to give up anytime soon, that much was clear. They were going to fight until either they were killed, or all transgenics were wiped from the face of the earth; her in particular. And when she was dead, if the runes were true, everyone'd be screwed. And if they were wrong, who'd be there to lead the transgenics?  
  
Well, the answer to that last question was obvious. No matter how much a jerk he'd seemed to be for so long, no matter how much he'd seemed to screw up her life, no matter how irresponsible he'd seemed in her eyes, Alec would always have her back. Alec would lead the transgenics if anything happened to her, she knew it. At one point she'd have laughed at the thought, one Alec wouldn't do it, he'd to self-centered, and two, if he actually would lead them, everyone was doomed, because he couldn't take care of himself, let alone anyone else, nor was he willing to. But Max had been viewing Alec in a slightly distorted image, so to speak, and her vision had cleared suddenly that night only a few weeks ago.  
  
I'm sorry I inflicted you on the world.  
  
  
  
God, she regretted those words. More than she could ever put into words. But hey, at that point, she'd still though he was a cold-blooded killer. Well, maybe she hadn't really believed it. The facts didn't add up, as Alec had pointed out after the fact; the fact that the murder was commited while Alec was still at Manticore waa major deter from his being guilty. But Max had detested Alec so much, and wanted him out of her life so badly, that she just wanted to believe that he'd killed the guy and she'd never see him again.  
  
But, of course, the voice of reason tends to speak more forcefully than one would like it to. Especially when it's accompanied by such an expression as Alec had at that point. He'd lost all sarcasm, all playfullness, all, livelihood. He looked almost haunted, and even scared. And when she'd refused to believe him, he'd added a sort of angry desperation to the mix, and something in her snapped, just gave way to, to. to something. Something she could exactly explain. At first, she's thought it was that she couldn't bear to see her brother's face dead again, but, upon further inspection, she realized that wasn't entirely true.  
  
She'd always suspected that Alec was more than meets the eye, and had realized how little she really knew him after the whole Berrisford incident. His intensity during that period had shocked her, but also slightly frightened her. But now, when Alec was facing almost certain death for a crime he couldn't have, and, if Max was honest with herself, wouldn't have committed, she couldn't leave him there.  
  
And so the events that followed led to their fleeing to Max's apartment, where she'd learned more about Alec in one night than she'd learned in the months they'd been together after Manticore had burned. It'd been one of the most alleviating nights she could remember.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"I killed him." Max said simply, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She could feel Alec change position next to her, but he didn't tense like she'd expected him to upon learning that she'd killed her own brother.  
  
"He asked me to, so I did. And then I ran. I saved myself. And I just, left his body there for them to take away."  
  
And then Alec did something so considerate, maybe even sweet; something Max didn't think he was even capable of. He put his arm around her, and pulled her closer to him, resting his head on hers. It was comforting, to say the least.  
  
"Max, I'm sorry," He'd whispered to her. Her tears fell then, and heonly held her tighter. They'd sat there for a long time in silence, enjoying each other's prescence. And then Alec dared to break the somber serenity.  
  
"It's okay, you know." Max turned her head and stared at him questioningly, not fully understanding his statement.  
  
"What you did, with Ben," he seemed uncomfortable, but her continued.  
  
"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, no matter how unthinkable they may seem, for the people that you care for, for the people that you love, and that love you back. Because in the long run, you know that, even if it kills you, for them, it's for the best."  
  
Max just stared at him, stunned. He really was so much more than she gave him credit for. Hell, she never gave him credit for anything. She looked at him again, and, seeing that he was obviously embarrassed by what he'd said, decided to ask a queestion in response to his words.  
  
"You're right. But I get the feeling you've had your own experiences with such a situation. Care to expand?" Max had asked him, though she wan't so sure it was a good idea. She'd been prodding as lightly as she could, though expecting that he'd turn cold, and tell her to stay the hell out of his business. But her feline curiousity got the best of her, and, even at the expense of whatever they'd managed to establish that night, she'd just had to know.  
  
Alec turned sharply to look at her. His eyes were clouded, but, to Max's surprise, not with anger or hate. They were filled with, sadness. A very plain, very intense sadness. He looked trapped for a moment, but it quickly passed. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, speaking softly.  
  
"When we were at the Berrisford's, I'd almost begged Berrisford to kill me. I'd deserved it, I'd hoped for it, in fact, I'd welcomed it. But as it was, it didn't work out the way I'd planned." He sighed again, but kept going.  
  
"I was in love with Rachel, I think, but she'd never loved who I really was. She'd never loved X5-494, the soldier, the hunter, the killer. She'd loved who I pretended to be, before I knew any better. I'm still not exactly sure what love is, it all happened so fast back then. But even if I wasn't 'in love' with her, I loved her. I know that. And when I was in that room with her lifeless body, with all of her loving, happy, lively personality drained form her, and knowing that it was all my fault, I'd just wanted to die. And I think part of me did that day. But I apologized, I told her how I felt, I told her so much, yet so little. And then, she was gone. That was a hard blow." Alec looked like he might break down right there. Max wasn't entirely sure, but it looked as if there was a lone tear that had sneaked its way down his right cheek, which was facing away from her, but it was hard to tell. Alec took a shaky breath, and continued.  
  
"I've been hoping that maybe she'd been had, you know, that unfinished business people talk about. That maybe she was still wondering what ever went on with me, what I'd done, how Id been able to fool them both. And I guess I've just held onto the hope that maybe she really did hear me, and accepted my apology, and knew that I really cared, that I loved her so much, that she'd been the one who'd taught me about love, the one who taught me how to love. And maybe with that, admittance, she'd been able to let go in peace. I can only hope and pray that that's true," he concluded in an almost inaudible whisper.  
  
Once again, Max was shocked at Alec's openness. He'd never told her about Rachel, and though some of this small revelation made little sense to Max, she put together what had happened. And she was taken by surprise by that fact.  
  
"She heard you Alec, I know she did." Max said softly. "And she believed you. And she did love you, until the day she died."  
  
"How can you know?" Alec asked painfully.  
  
"I just do. She held on for how long Alec? How long? She was waiting for something, waiting for you. She loved you, and she needed to know whether or not you still loved her, or if you ever did. And when you told her, she was finally able to let go. She was content. She was happy. It's a girl thing," she finished with a genuine smile.  
  
Alec sighed again, a small smile playing at his own lips. He looked at Max and began speaking again.  
  
"Thank you. I guess I needed to hear that."  
  
Max nodded. "Any time. And thank you. I need someone to talk to about Ben,someone who would understand, everything."  
  
"Any time, Maxie. Any time."Alec pulled her even closer to him, and Max moved into his embrace innocently, yet happily.  
  
And so it was silent for another period of time. But this time, when the quiet was pleasently interrupted, it was Max who spoke.  
  
"Can I ask you something, Alec?"  
  
"Anything, Max," he said calmly. There had been a point not too long ago in which he'd have refused such a request, and they both knew it. But things had changed drastically in am amazingly short period of time, and they'd changed for what could only be the better.  
  
"Are you still upset that I didn't let Berrisford kill you?" she said tentatively, awkwardly, almost afraid of the answer for reasons unknown to her.  
  
Alec looked at her quesioningly, taken aback by her intense, very personal inquisition.  
  
"No, Max," he stated, "I'm not." He seemed to be a bit disturbed that their conversation had veered onto this topic, and also extremely shocked that Max actually gave a shit whether had wanted to live or die. "Do you really think that I do?"  
  
Max remained silent. She didn't want to do or say anything more that she would regret, because she already regretted bringing up the subject. It was too uncomfortable.  
  
"I'll be honest with you Max," Alec said pointedly. "I was pissed right after it happened, that I wasn't dead. Because I deserved it. I didn't deserve freedom, hell, I didn't even deserve Manticore, I deserved death. But, I felt a little better afterwards, after I talked to Rachel, even though seeing Rachel like that was the hardest thing I'd ever done. But now, I guess I've learned a little more about the world, learned that not everything in this life is perfect, that it's usually far from it. But once you except that, that's when you can start living."  
  
And he left it at that. It was obvious there was more that he could've said, but he stopped there. And it was enough. They sat there together in silence for the rest of the night, and no words were truly needed.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
That night, Max and Alec had become friends. They didn't harbor hostility toward one another any longer. They trusted each other. And, for Max at least, their veiws of one another had altered greatly.  
  
'Alec, wonder if he's up.'  
  
She knew Alec slept a lot, but he might be up. She hopped from the bed and sidled out of her room to his door. She knocked lightly, but there was no answer. 'Proabaly still asleep,' Max thought, but she wasn't convinced; something didn't feel right. She tried the doorknob, which was unlocked, inplying that he was inisde and, most likely awake. So, being the person she was, she turned the handle and entered. Only to find the room deserted.  
  
A/N: Ok, yeah, stupid ending, I know, but next I didn't feel like making this chapter any longer. Oh, and BTW, yes, in my world, flashbacks within flashbacks exsist, and I hope I didn't confuse any of you too badly. I've got some of chapter three written, so hopefully it will be out sooner than this one. Hoped you liked this chapter!  
  
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!  
  
-AntipodeanOpaleye 


	3. Bullet Hole

Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy  
  
By AntipodeanOpaleye  
  
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: I am shocked! One, I actually got this out somewhat soon! And, most importantly, I actually got reviews! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate all of your positive input! I live for your comments, they make it so much easier to write! So, from this young writer, thank you so much.  
  
  
  
Anyway, hope you like it!  
  
  
  
Chapter Three: Bullet Hole  
  
  
  
Alec looked out at the brightening horizon, illuminated by the slowly rising sun. He enjoyed the view for a brief moment, but registered that sunrise meant that it had to be around 5:00 AM. Meaning he had to get back to Terminal City soon. He stood, stretching his limbs and such, taking in the view he had from his position. He'd been up there plenty of times at this hour, and he'd seen the sunrise each and every time. But, it seemed, that this sunrise, though not especially brilliant in any particular way, had captured Alec's attention, and had gained his veneration. Alec wasn't exactly sure why this natural display was so captivating, but dismissed the thought quickly. He inched his way unconsciously to the very edge of the platform he was on, so many feet from the ground, and when he realized it, he reveled in the irony. There had been a time, not so long ago, where he would have most likely taken a deep breath and silently glided to his death without a second thought, knowing that no one would mourn him, no now would care, or even notice. But now, as he stared down the once-inviting 'out,' his mentality was much different.  
  
Alec placed his right foot on the edge and arched his back, leaning dangerously over, his transgenic agility and balance aiding him. Moving his gaze downwards, he saw the deserted alley nearby, the row of rundown houses a few streets over, a filthy motel a couple of blocks over from that, and then the apartment complex next door. His eyes swept across the large brick buildings about a half a mile away and the abandoned adjoining shopping mart, which appeared to have been a part of a large franchise sometime before the Pulse. He raised his head again, his hazel green eyes taking in the city once again. The city that was filled with people that wanted him and his kind dead, people that thought of them as heartless, soulless animals incapable of love, or anything excepting assassination, for that matter. But, ironically, that same city was where he lived, was where his friends were, was where the people he cared about where. This city had become his home, and though he once was sure that he could, he now doubted her could leave. He took one more glance, grinning slightly, before finally turning and climbing down from the high place, trading its sanctuary and serenity for the filth, the hate, the danger, and the degradation of the city he called home.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Alec?" Max whispered into the darkness of his apartment. 'Idiot. Fell asleep and left your damn door unlocked. Not exactly smart around here, dumbass,' she thought, though she couldn't hear him, which should have been simple with her enhanced listening capabilities. She concentrated more intensely on detecting some kind of indication that Alec was there.  
  
When she couldn't find any sign of life, not even the steady breathing of a sleeping transgenic, she became increasingly nervous. What if Alec had been captured? Hurt? Killed?  
  
She tore desperately through the seemingly deserted apartment, her breathing rapid, an infinite number of highly unlikely, though horrible worst case scenarios, checking every room and area of the apartment, and then going back to check each possible place a second time, just to be sure.  
  
After doing so, she deemed that there was, in fact, no one was in the apartment. After coming to this conclusion, she found herself embarrassed her complete lack of control only minutes earlier; the result of the most recent musings of her somewhat wild imagination. Who would only break into Alec's apartment when there were plenty others just seconds away from his? Besides, Alec would've known if someone was inside his place, he was a transgenic, after all, with all of the enhanced ability of any X5; he would have sensed it, or at least heard it. In fact, he wouldn't have been the only one to have heard it; the building was full of transgenics.  
  
She frowned, partly at completely neglecting reason in such a situation, but partly at still not having found Alec. He never woke up this early. But hey, maybe today was a fluke. Max hoped so, almost nervously, as she made her way down to Command.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
It was still early, Alec thought, meaning that he still might be able to return to Terminal City without too much interference. Might was the key word. He'd actually considered going to visit Normal at Jam Pony that morning, knowing that Normal would be in the office already, due to his serious lack of a life outside of the Jam Pony Messenger Service. But, of course, Alec's plans never went accordingly, and he'd allowed himself to wallow in the sorrow and despair that laced every aspect of his past. 'Poor, poor pitiful Alec,' he thought sarcastically as he crept through the sparsely populated streets. He seriously considered trying to make it through Sector Checkpoints, which would prove to be a hell of a lot quicker, and far more pleasant, than trekking the sewers, but with the memory of Biggs's death so recent, he thought it better, and safer, to avoid Sector Police for the time being. So he made his way to the same sewer system that he'd traveled through with OC, Sketchy, and Logan, only it was a different entrance. He moved swiftly, much more efficiently alone than with the Ordinaries he'd traveled with before. Every so often, he'd stop to allow the disgusting nature of his position to be fully recognized, though promptly moving along after uttering a very characteristic groan of distaste.  
  
After what seemed like forever, but in actuality was truly closer to a half an hour, Alec found an outlet that he deemed would be safe for him to exit from. He climbed through the opening with transgenic grace and speed and crouched in a cat like position upon reaching the deserted street above ground. His eyes darted around, insuring that he was in fact alone, and once doing so, he sprang from the ground and took off at transgenic speed, hell bent on getting to Terminal City before anyone could ask questions about where he was during the night.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Max jogged casually down to Command, where Dix and Luke were working, accompanied by Mole, smoking his ever present cigar, his rifle balanced over his shoulder. "Hey Max," Mole welcomed her upon noticing her presence.  
  
At the sight of Max, the group abruptly abandoned their work to greet her.  
  
"Yeah. Hey Max," Luke said happily.  
  
"Hey Luke. Mole, Dix," she said distractedly.  
  
"Hey there Max," Dix said in his soft-spoken way. Max regretted that she couldn't stay and talk, but she was adamant on finding Alec.  
  
"Have any of you seen Alec?" she asked, wanted to be direct so that she could obtain her answer and either find Alec or continue her search.  
  
"I haven't seen him Max," Luke said, his face thoughtful, "but you might look in his apartment. You know what late he likes to sleep, especially with everything that's been going on, and with his bullet wound and all."  
  
"Looked there. He was no where to be found."  
  
"Well, his motorcycle is still here, I saw it when me an' Joshua came back from delivering some supplies to the new mothers that are staying down across from the infirmary area. Just about an hour ago." Mole offered.  
  
"Yeah," Luke added, "He couldn't have left between now and then without us hearing something."  
  
"I know that someone took Cindy, Sketchy, and Logan back to Joshua's place. Logan sent an e-mail to that account we set up for when communications were down saying that they were there. Maybe he escorted them back," Dix said, bringing up the message, attempting to prove that that was were Alec must be.  
  
"But that message was sent around 1:30 this morning," Max said, worry slightly edging her voice.  
  
"I'm sure he'll be back soon, Max," Dix said reassuringly, though his strangely shaped face looked a bit distressed at the fact that Alec was 'missing'; Mole's and Luke's expressions both mirroring Dix's distraught countenance. Alec was close with all three of them, more so than Max, and each seemed to be a bit disturbed by Alec's absence.  
  
"You're probably right Dix," Max said evenly as she walked away from the Command Center, followed by the eyes of the three transgenics she was departing from. After she was out of their sight, she took of at a run, decided on searching the entire of Terminal City for Alec. Though she still wasn't sure why she wanted to find him so badly, or why she was so upset that he wasn't around.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Alec was positioned on the roof of a building just outside Terminal City, watching the comings and goings of the Transgenic Oppression Front. The number of Ordinaries was phenomenal for 5:45 AM; it was shocking that so many people could hate something that they had no clue about. His enhanced hearing allowed him to listen in on some of the interviews and conversations going on below.  
  
"These animals aren't natural! They're dangerous!"  
  
"They'll kill us all! They don't have morals; they don't care! They're assassins!"  
  
Alec cringed at the harsh words. They hit too close to home for him not to. 'Enough of this shit,' he thought as he scanned the area for a somewhat less occupied area to descend to.  
  
"Just my luck,' Alec thought after failing to find a way down from his position. Knowing better than to just drop in among a throng of transgenic haters and just waltz right into TC, and not having any desire whatsoever to take out that many innocent bystanders just to get into Terminal City, even if they did want him dead.  
  
After much debate, Alec reached the conclusion that his only plausible option was to try to make his way into TC from above. As in, trying to jump from building to building, climb from one spot to another, until he was safely inside. He didn't want to attract too much unwanted attention from those below him.  
  
He evaluated the distance between himself and a large apartment building right inside Terminal City. It was a decently long jump, one that would push the limits of his feline abilities, but not to the breaking point. He'd made longer jumps in his time. Besides, it was the quickest route in. He paused before preparing for the leap; not because he was apprehensive, he was actually quite confident. No, he stopped at the sight of multiple television crews, cameras ready, all prepared to get footage of his inhuman leap. 'Oh well.' Alec thought as he shrugged out of habit and rubbed his hands together in preparation as he backed up in order to take a running start. 'This can't be any worse than Max riding her motorcycle into TC in front of a camera. Or riding a hoverdrone into Jam Pony.'  
  
And so Alec blurred to the edge of the building and gracefully leaped the distance from one building to the other, closing the gap between the dangerous, odious world and the transgenic safe-haven he called home. But not without attracting just a tiny bit of attention from the onlookers below.  
  
"Oh my word!" a female voice cried from who Alec deemed was the first to notice his momentary display of physical superiority.  
  
"It's one of those mutant freaks!' screamed a couple guys who all sounded like they were die-hard 'trannie haters.'  
  
"Dammit!" shouted a woman whose voice Alec recognized from a news report he'd heard. "Don't just stand there you idiot! Film this!"  
  
"Shoot him!" A lone voice rang out in the throng of voices, a voice that Alec also recognized from a news telecast; an interview if he remembered correctly. And obviously, there were multiple people who agreed with this approached, seeing as Alec was met with a storm of bullets rising from below him. And, as he expected, not one of the shooters was even close to a decent aim; each of the attempts widely missing its target.  
  
Alec landed gently on the rooftop of the building adjacent to the one he'd been on, his cat-like elegance aiding in his deplaning. He fought the urge to look down at all of the shocked people and wave in an innocent gesture of farewell before turning to leave, but knew he was just asking for trouble. But hey, wasn't he known for asking for trouble?  
  
Alec walked slowly to the edge of the roof top, carefully shielding his face from view in an unusual attempt at discretion, and leaned over to stare curiously at the crowd congregating at the base of the building.  
  
"My goodness! He made it across alive!" The same female voice that had first noticed his 'Miraculous Flying Leap' cried out once again. Alec placed the voice to an elderly, obviously homeless, woman, most likely just minding her own business, or maybe joining the crowd out of simple, good- natured curiosity. She didn't look like the type to want another being, no matter what it was capable of, to die. 'But, of course,' Alec reminded himself, 'looks can be deceiving.'  
  
Alec smiled genuinely at the shocked gasps and horrified screams from those below, all of whom were either 1.) appalled that they'd had the horrible luck to have to witness the escape of a terrible transgenic freak, 2.) amazed that he'd made it across in one piece, 3.) if they had taken a shot him, inspecting their guns, as if something had to be wrong with the piece for them to miss their shot, or 4.) were just plain stupid, or mentally unstable, as people tended to be nowadays, and were simply gawking at him for no apparent reason. 'No apparent reason excepting my stunning good looks,' Alec smirked at the thought.  
  
He bent over casually to get a better view of the onlookers. Once he saw that the majority of their attention was fixed upon him, he settled for widening his grin cockily, though effectively pulling off the innocent look he was aiming for.  
  
The majority of the congregated Ordinaries below him where staring dumbfounded at him, as if trying to figure him out by gaping at him until he dropped dead. It was somewhat amusing.  
  
But then, there were those who possessed a slightly quicker thought process, all of whom happened to have firearms at their disposal. Unfortunately, Alec was much too absorbed in his audience to notice these men taking aim at him.  
  
Alec laughed sardonically at the spectacle before him. These people looked terrified of the mere sight of him, even if he was feet from the ground. With a single dismissive wave of his hand, Alec turned to leave.  
  
Damn, what he'd give to show them exactly what they had to fear, just a quick little display of genetically superior power. But he knew it was risking too much, that it could endanger his friends, and the transgenic cause. And he wouldn't put something so important to so many people, something so important to him, in jeopardy.  
  
He shuddered at the thought that only months ago, he would have put on a worthy show without a second though about how it would effect anyone else, because at that point, he really could've given a shit less about anyone other than himself.  
  
And he froze at the realization that only a few years ago, he would not only have given them a frightening little show, but he might have snapped a few necks in the process. Hell, maybe it would've been on a mission, with his whole unit even, and then they could've carried out the assassinations in a more, 'creative' way. Damn, he couldn't believe how much he'd changed since then; it was unnerving and relieving all at once. He continued to think such thoughts for only seconds more, until his mind finally cleared enough for his transgenic hearing to pick up the small sound of a finger tightening on a trigger far below him. He tensed and his head snapped downwards to assess the situation.  
  
Obviously, there was at least one pistol-carrying man down there who was a decent shot, or maybe he'd just gotten lucky. But if Alec hadn't possessed the transgenic agility that he did, he'd probably be dead. And even so, if any other transgenic had been caught in such a situation, it was doubtful they would have made it out without a critical wound or worse.  
  
But, as it was, it was Alec who found himself in such a situation. The gunshot registered to his sensitive hearing immediately, but being caught off his guard had delayed his reaction time. Alec turned and attempted to flee at transgenic speed before the bullet reached him, but it was too late for that.  
  
Alec groaned in pain as a lone bullet pierced his shoulder. Ironically, the new wound was unbelievably close to the not-quite-healed bullet wound he'd received at Jam Pony, which made for a more painful injury now. He cringed as he reached over with his unharmed hand to evaluate the damage, pain piercing his every movement.  
  
'Not so bad,' Alec told himself, though he wasn't being entirely truthful. The bullet wound wasn't any deeper than his last, but it was already bleeding more frequently. He rolled his eyes, but the habitual toss of his head that accompanied the motion wasn't exactly comfortable, and he regretted it immediately. It was then when he heard the all to familiar sound multiple firearms, each of them cocked and readying to take their shot. At him.  
  
Despite the stabbing pains in his arm and the slight lightheadedness it was causing, Alec turned quicker than humanly possible and, before he could take another bullet, blurred out of sight.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
"Real smart, Alec. Real smart. Couldn't leave well enough alone, could you Alec. Couldn't just, walk away, happily knowing that you had the opportunity to walk away. Oh no, you couldn't do that. You had to be a smart ass and have to last laugh. Well, look what that got you Alec?"  
  
Alec had been climbing down that wall of the building he'd been on, which was an challenge with an injured arm, muttering to himself all the way down.  
  
After reaching a point close to the ground, Alec released his grip on the wall and, protecting his bullet wound, leaped down and landed in his trademark feline position.  
  
'What a coincidence,' Alec thought he looked ahead to the makeshift infirmary that lay only a few seconds away. 'Some divine intervention, I guess.'  
  
He sauntered off towards the small building, on which Joshua had taken the liberty to paint a large red cross. He remained in the shadows, silently sliding past the multiple transgenics, all of whom he knew on some level, that passed him. He wanted to keep his slip-up as quiet as possible. And he knew if he could just get into the infirmary without anyone noticing him, he could do so.  
  
He slowly opened the door, looking in to see if there was anyone there whom would spill on his situation. Seeing no one, he shut the door behind him and approached an aquatic looking anomaly, just one of the strange looking nurses that were tending to Terminal City's medical problems.  
  
"Hey Ronnie," Alec said as he placed a hand on the female medic's shoulder. She jumped slightly, but turned with a smile.  
  
"Alec, what a pleasant surprise," Ronnie said, her voice low, but sweet. She was somewhat shorter than Alec, and she looked up at him with wide eyes covered by a cloudy, though transparent, eye lids that she blinked pleasantly.  
  
"Likewise," Alec said with his inimitable grin.  
  
"To what do I owe this visit?" Ronnie asked, crossing her emerald and sapphire scale covered arms across her chest.  
  
"Well, Ron," Alec said quietly, "I was thinking you could do me a favor."  
  
"Oh really?" Ron look skeptical. "I don't know, what would this 'favor' be?"  
  
"Well, it's not a matter of what I'm going to ask you to do, more what I'm going to ask you not to do," Alec said convincingly.  
  
"Uh huh, I'm sure it is Alec," Ronnie said sarcastically. "What exactly is it that you need?"  
  
Alec shrugged off his bloody leather jacket and gently rolled up the bloody sleeve of his shirt, which Ronnie now saw for the first time. As he exposed the wound, cringing as the material rubbed against the wound, Ronnie gasped.  
  
"Alec!" she cried in exasperation. "Why on earth didn't you tell me about this as soon as you came in?"  
  
"Ah, see Ron," Alec shook his head knowingly, "I told you I needed a favor." He looked down at the blood on his jacket. "I need you to patch this up."  
  
"Alec, why wouldn't I?" Ronnie asked, confused at Alec's prior statement.  
  
"I need you to keep this quiet. As in, no one can know I was here," Alec said seriously.  
  
"Why, Alec? People are going to have seen you come in here, they're going to want to know what happened, whether or not you're ok."  
  
"Ronnie, no one gives shit about me or what happens to me," he said bitterly as she escorted him to a small white cot to sit on. "That's a known fact."  
  
Ronnie stared at him, disbelief written clearly on her features. She stopped what she collecting her supplies and sat down beside him.  
  
"Alec, there are more people that care about you here than you know. More people care about you than me, or Mole, or Luke, or Dix, and, I hate to say it, but even Max. Everyone knows you, and almost all of them adore you, and if they don't, I can tell you they have the utmost respect for you. I should know."  
  
Alec shrugged. "I dunno, Ron," he said distantly.  
  
"You'll figure it out, Alec. You'll see it yourself, soon enough," Ronnie said, draping her arm over his shoulder and lightly squeezing his good shoulder.  
  
"Now, let's get you cleaned up," she said as she jumped up to finish collecting her supplies.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"There. All done," Ronnie said after she'd removed the bullet, and cleaned and dressed the wound. "You never did tell me how you got this?" she gestured toward Alec's now bandaged arm.  
  
"Ah, it was nothing. Just paying the price for letting my guard down," Alec said self-consciously. Ronnie knew she wouldn't get any more out of him, so she let the subject go. She leaned casually against the wall  
  
"Well, you're lucky it hit where it did, even if it hurts like hell. It should heal within a few days, if I'm not mistaken. You'll be back to normal in less than a week, I can guarantee that much. As long as you stay out of trouble. You all right?"  
  
"I'm always all right," Alec replied with a grin.  
  
Ronnie rolled her aqua eyes and turned to leave. "Well then," she called over her shoulder, "Now that I've seen what I can do for you, I'll see what I can do for your jacket. You stay put," she added as she saw him moving to stand. "It'll do you goof to sit still for a few minutes."  
  
Alec smiled, but he was a bit perturbed that she'd told him to stay there, knowing that he'd do so if she asked. He'd known Ronnie ever since she'd first come to TC. They'd become fast friends, and Alec would frequently come to visit her when he had nothing else to do. He'd help her with whatever she was doing, and he'd learned a hell of a lot more about medical care than he'd ever learned in training.  
  
He laid back on the cot he was still situated on, staring up at the ceiling. He was becoming annoyed by the quiet when he heard footsteps approaching his bed. 'Probably Ronnie,' he told to himself.  
  
"Done already Ronnie?" he asked quizzically. "I figured you'd be gone longer than that."  
  
It was then that he realized that Ronnie was no where in sight, and that his visitor, or more like intruder, wasn't even a nurse. But she was obviously a patient.  
  
"Oh," he said to the young woman who was now standing next to him bed, cradling a small, sleeping baby in her arms. "Hi there," he said kindly when he noticed the strange look the woman was giving him.  
  
"Hello," she said in almost a whisper.  
  
"Sweet kid," Alec said casually, looking at the infant she was holding.  
  
"Thank you," she said again in the same small voice.  
  
"You look familiar," Alec blurted out, not intending to come across as so blunt. "What's your name?"  
  
"My name is Meg, and this is Lia," she muttered, indicating her child. "Yours?"  
  
Alec wasn't one to trust very quickly, but something about this woman made Alec feel like he'd known her forever. Maybe he had.  
  
"Alec," he said, sending a friendly grin her way.  
  
"Alec? As in, 'The Alec' who everyone talks about? The Alec that's been leading Terminal City?"  
  
"Uh, I wouldn't go that far. But I am the only Alec here, as far as I know."  
  
"I didn't think it was you when they started talking about you. I thought you'd, you'd."  
  
And it was then that Alec knew exactly who she was. And exactly when and where he knew her from.  
  
"762?" he asked, already knowing the answer. His little human outcast back at Manticore. She nodded her head and grinned.  
  
"I can't believe it's you sir. We all thought you were dead."  
  
"Well, I've come very close quite a few times, but I always seem to weasel my way out of it," he said with a smirk.  
  
"It's very good to see you, sir," Meg said quickly. Alec wouldn't have been surprised if she had saluted him if she hadn't been holding her daughter.  
  
"Meg? Call me Alec," he said gently.  
  
"Of course! I'm sorry, sir.. I mean, Alec," she said with a smile.  
  
"No problem," Alec said honestly, "How long you been her in TC? I haven't seen you around before."  
  
"We've only just arrived," Meg said, sitting down next to the cot in a rusty fold-out chair.  
  
"We?" Alec asked, wondering whether she was referring to herself and Lia, or to someone else.  
  
"Me, Lia, and Brian," Meg looked as if something had only just registered about this 'Brian.' "Oh, he'll want to see you! Can you hold her, if I go run I get him?"  
  
"Sure," Alec said, gently taking the small baby from her arms and holding her, resting her gingerly in the crook of his arm. At first, he felt awkward, holding this helpless child in his arms, but it became natural soon after. She stirred slightly, and Alec stared at her as she yawned innocently and returned to her peaceful slumber. He smiled widely at her, brushing a few strands of her dark hair from her face, his thumb lingering to briefly caress her cheek.  
  
'I could get used to this,' Alec thought, taking in everything about the beautiful bundle he was holding. He'd never thought of himself as anything close to family man, and had never even considered having a wife and children. Hell, who would want to have such a relationship with a screw up like him? But at that moment, he only knew that he would truly love a little one running around calling him dad.  
  
Once again, he heard footsteps, and once again he didn't look up. He could tell it was a pair, and when he heard Meg's voice talking to 'Brian,' he knew he had nothing to worry about.  
  
"Alec?" she asked quietly, "This is my husband, Brian."  
  
Alec looked up suddenly at yet another familiar face, though this one wasn't so difficult to place. 787, the anti-killing machine, was standing in front of him. Though Brian didn't seem to recognize Alec as his former commanding officer. In fact, he simply looked at him blankly, wondering who exactly was holding his child.  
  
"Nice to see you. Brian wasn't it?"  
  
"Yes," Brian said softly.  
  
Alec though Brian's dumbfounded attitude was amusing, but he didn't want to annoy the guy. They went way back; he didn't want confuse him any more than he obviously was.  
  
"You have no idea who I am, do you?" Alec asked grinning.  
  
"I'm sorry, I don't," Brian said warily.  
  
"Oh now, come on 787, that hurts. You don't even remember me," Alec said in mock sadness.  
  
The look on Brian's face was plain; he still didn't have a clue. Alec was shocked; he hadn't changed that much in appearance since the last time they'd seen each other.  
  
"Really? You don't know? I'm devastated, man, I really am. Not even a year out of Manticore and you can't even remember you beloved commanding officer?"  
  
"Sir?" Brian asked in disbelief. Alec smiled and nodded, though he was surprised that Brian had called him sir, just as Meg had, when he was no longer their superior.  
  
"I'm sorry sir. I can't believe that you're here. I mean, we thought you were," Brian rambled, but Alec cut him off.  
  
"Dead?" Alec asked, finishing Brian's statement in doing so. "Ahh, not quite. Gotten real close, but not quite." Brian looked ready to respond, but Alec stopped him. "And Brian? The name's Alec."  
  
"Alec?" he asked incredulously, obviously not having heard his wife address him as such earlier. "As in, Max and Alec? Alec and Max?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess me an' Max tend to be associated with each other," Alec said uncomfortably, staring back down at the sleeping child that was still cradled in his arms.  
  
"Well, you and her a really great together. And with your leadership abilities, and then your relationship together, I mean, it's really given a lot of people around here a reason to, I dunno, hope for something more, someday."  
  
Alec was taken by surprised at this revelation. He could see how some people might possibly be 'inspired' by their command, but, though their friendship meant the world to him, he couldn't see how it acted as a symbol of hope for the other transgenics. Unless.  
  
Alec's mouth dropped slightly at the thought.  
  
"Umm, Brian? You said, Max an' me? As in, Max an' me? As in, together? As in." He couldn't get the words out, the idea was so foreign. Did everyone think that Max and him were an item?  
  
"Well," Brian started, but Meg cut him off.  
  
"Oh no!" Meg burst out to the surprise of both Alec and Brian. "Alec, they've been looking all over for you! The lizard man, you know him, uh,"  
  
"Mole?" Alec offered.  
  
"Mole. He came down here about an hour ago, tearing up the place trying to find you! He and the others been all over Terminal City from what I hear."  
  
Alec's eyes widened, his expression turning serious.  
  
"Did he say anything as to why he was looking for me?" Alec asked, his tone demanding, mimicking the one he'd used at Manticore when he'd wanted something done or clearly understood.  
  
"Nothing, he just left when she found out you weren't here," Meg stammered.  
  
"Thanks," Alec murmured, standing and handing the child he was holding distractedly back to her mother. Before taking off to find Ronnie to collect his jacket, he turned to Brian and Meg.  
  
"It was great to see you two," he said genuinely, flashing them another grin, regretting he couldn't stay and talk. "I'll see you around, and good luck with the little one," he said before leaving them alone in the room.  
  
"Ronnie!" Alec called as he tore through the clinic, countless horrible thought flying through his head. Mole never came down to part of TC unless he was delivering supplies or something of the like. Didn't like the attitude of people around this area, he'd said for some reason. And as far as Alec knew, Mole had already been on a supply run that day; they'd been scheduled for an early morning delivery to the infirmary for child care supplies. Mole, of all people, wouldn't have been caught dead down there for any other reason, and definitely not alone, unless something was really wrong.  
  
"Alec, I told you to stay." Ronnie began to say, but shut up when she saw the look on Alec's face. "Are you ok?"  
  
"I have to leave," Alec said simply, though his voice was shaky and his breathing rapid. He didn't even attempt to hide this as he spoke to Ronnie.  
  
"All right," Ronnie whispered automatically, handing him his jacket, which was clean as ever. "Be careful, Alec."  
  
"Thank you for everything Ronnie," he said with a sad smile as he slipped his jacket on and left abruptly.  
  
"Any time," Ronnie said slowly after he'd left  
  
Alec ran through Terminal City at top speed, looking everywhere for Joshua, Mole, Dix, Luke, someone. But he was really looking for Max. Hoping, praying, that she was okay.  
  
He lost all capability for rational thought at that point. Could White have planned some sort of heist to take Max into custody? Could he have been that quick with such a contrivance? What about the government? They could've made contact with the transgenics for multiple reasons. And any one of these things would have been kept under wraps by the central group of transgenic leaders in TC.  
  
Anything could have happened. What had he been thinking, leaving Terminal City for so long? And if anything had happened to Max, he wasn't sure what he would do.  
  
But at that moment, he didn't have to think any more about such things, because Max just happened to run right into him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Max had searched everywhere, and she couldn't find him. She wasn't even sure why she was so upset; part of her said that it was more than likely that he'd hooked up with some X5 female and hadn't left yet. But something told her that that wasn't true. Alec wasn't like that. Maybe he had been, a long time ago, but he'd really changed. Even Max wasn't blind enough to notice. And the fact that she couldn't find him was strangely terrifying.  
  
When exactly did she start caring about Alec and his well-being? She never thought of him as a brother, like Zack, or Krit, or Jack or Zane when they were back at Manticore. She'd never even treated him with the same care that she harbored for almost every transgenic she'd ever met. What exactly was Alec to her?  
  
She shook her head violently, trying to rid herself of such irrelevant thoughts.  
  
Still unsure of precisely why she was so spun about Alec's unknown status, she made her way back to Command to see if they'd come up with anything.  
  
Halfway to her destination, Max stopped dead in her tracks. Maybe she should check The Needle. She knew he went there for the same reasons she had for so long, and he was often found there when he was no where to be seen elsewhere. Why hadn't she though of that before? It was so simple.  
  
Plans formulated themselves in her mind as she changed her direction and made her way to where the vehicles, including her own motorcycle, were stored. She could find a way out without attracting too much attention, and could most likely get back in just as easily if she was careful. If she was careful.  
  
And as she turned down that alleyway that led to the transportation bay, she found herself clumsily running into a tall, very muscular, very familiar male transgenic.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Alec's arms wrapped instinctively around her.  
  
"Max," Alec whispered, relieved, and he let out a slow breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. And then he muttered in an tone inaudible to both transgenic and human hearing, more to himself than to the woman who found herself in his embrace, "Thank God."  
  
Max, on the other hand, didn't put two and two together right away. She wasn't even completely aware of whose chest her face was currently buried in. All she knew was that one minute she was turning the corner of the alley she was currently traveling on, and the next minute she'd met an almost welcoming detour in the form of Alec. She stayed nestled comfortably against him before making the connection.  
  
"Alec?" she asked disbelieving as she looked up to meet his eyes. Eyes which were swirling with so many different emotions it was impossible to decode them all. She was somewhat dazed, not only because she'd found the cause of her thoughtless hunt throughout Terminal City for the past few hours, but also because the eyes she found herself strangely lost in were breathtaking and bewildering in themselves.  
  
"Yeah," Alec said softly, proposing this more as a statement than a question, as was appropriate. He looked down into her large brown eyes, drowning in their captivating luster. They were so dangerously close to one another, it was mind boggling, but neither was feeling awkward due to this. They simply stayed there, both feeling an immeasurable amount of relief at the other's safety, and also simply feeling an uncanny comfort at being together. It was a sensation neither of them had experienced in a very long time. And it was nice.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Dammit!" A young male X5 swore under his breath after clumsily tripping over a large crate while creeping through the streets of San Francisco. Not his usual place of residence. Not even extremely close, for that matter. But it was one of his necessary stops on his way to Seattle. She was here. She had to be here. They hadn't seen each other in years, but he'd kept in contact with her through their contact number. And she would have told him had she left.  
  
He pulled a small, crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket, though he really didn't need to refer to its contents due to his photographic memory. His bright green eyes studied the message silently.  
  
Work: Camron's Bar and Grille Sector 19  
  
Home: Former Tempest Residences Apartment 15C Sector 22  
  
He replaced the paper in his pocket. Ahh, California. Northern California had conformed to sector division after the Pulse, but San Francisco was as far south as the sectors went. Having always had the pleasure of living in the more liberal areas of the country, including the south west and east coast, it was somewhat shocking having to plan his route according to Sector Checkpoints, and quite annoying having to flash his fake sector pass at every stop.  
  
He checked his watch. Midnight. She'd probably be working. He headed north down the alley and made his way to the Sector Division he was looking for.  
  
As he approached the booth, he was a bit surprised to see a young woman manning it, two matching blonde braids laying neatly on her shoulders. She looked up from he magazine after he'd cleared his throat upon reaching her.  
  
"Hi there," she said with a smile. San Francisco sure was different than the rest of the country. "Can I see your Sector Pass, doll?"  
  
His eyes widened slightly at being called 'doll' by this perfect stranger. He glanced up at her as he dug for his pass in his jacket, but she was quite busy, her eyes roaming around her visitor's body. He rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his full lips. Typical.  
  
He drew her from her exploration by waving his sector pass directly in her line of sight.  
  
"Oh!" she squeaked as she fingered his pass, checking it casually.  
  
"Looks like you're all set," she looked at pass again. "Zane."  
  
"Thanks," he said with a grin, turning to leave.  
  
"You know, I could use some company," the woman called flirtatiously.  
  
"Sorry, can't. I've got somewhere to be," Zane called and bolted out of there before he could hear another word from her.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Camron's Bar and Grille. Zane's hands trembled slightly as he consulted the paper in his hands, confirming that this was the place. He was nervous, and he wasn't sure why. He was very different from most of the X5s he knew. He was fun-loving, laid back, friendly, loyal, an all around good guy. Not to say he didn't have problems, or certain dark secrets, but he was good at hiding them. But right now, he was a wreck. He riffled his spiky, light brown hair with his hand, sighed, and walked into the obviously popular club.  
  
Zane was welcomed by the pulsing beats of typical club music clouding his sensitive hearing. He shook it off and headed straight toward the bar, taking a seat near the right end.  
  
"What can I get ya?" asked a short redhead behind the counter. She appeared to be in her late twenties.  
  
"Well," Zane said, deciding to be direct and to the point. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. Name's Jo-," he stopped, remembering that unlike himself, Jondy never used her real name for her work. "Her name's Marty, she tends bar here, far as I know."  
  
"Marty's on her break," the redhead said plainly. Zane arched his eyebrow. "You a friend?"  
  
"You could say that," Zane replied with a small grin, not wanting to look suspicious.  
  
"Well, she's neva on time, but she should be back within, say, five minutes or so. She's already 'bout a twenty minutes late." She silently appraised Zane. "Can I get you something while you wait?"  
  
"Uh, no thanks. I'll just hang out here and wait for her."  
  
"Aiight, whatever," the girl dismissed him as she walked over to her next customer. "I'll let 'er know you're here," she called over her shoulder. Zane nodded in appreciation.  
  
'Will she even recognize me?' he thought, unsure on how to approach her when he actually came in contact with her. He didn't even know what she looked like. He was sure Jondy had changed over the years. She wasn't even aware he was coming, let alone that he was planning to ask her to leave with him.  
  
After immersing himself in his thoughts for a few moments more, his transgenic hearing picked up a somewhat familiar voice coming from behind the bar. Zane saw the redhead he'd spoken with earlier disappear through a nearby door. He moved closer and strained to listen to their conversation, seeing as the redhead left the door ajar.  
  
"Marty, yo' late. Again. If Gary finds out that you weren't here on time he'll can yo' ass," the redhead fumed.  
  
"Oh, come on Gerry," Jondy, or should he say, Marty, replied casually. "He won't find out. He hasn't yet."  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Gerry muttered, "When you out o' a job, don't come cryin' ta me." Then she paused, "Oh, Marty. Some guy's up at the bar lookin' fo' ya. Some young hot thang. Didn't look too happy though."  
  
Jondy didn't say anything, but the door did open shortly after to reveal herself, with a surprised looking Gerry following her.  
  
"Which one?" Jondy asked, hand on her hips, surveying the men at the bar. She never looked down the line far enough to notice Zane. But Zane noticed her.  
  
Her dark hair was pulled into two cute pig-tails, her makeup dark, yet wearing from her obviously long day. Her face was confused as she appraised the males in front of her, which, in Zane's opinion, made her look all the better.  
  
"Right there," Gerry said softly as she pointed at the shadowed figure that was Zane. Jondy looked a small bit apprehensive, but walked over to him all the same. Gerry stood where she was, preparing to watch the exchange.  
  
Zane eyes the counter in front of him, his hands folded in front of him and his forehead resting on the platform they created.  
  
"Hi there," Jondy whispered, trying to get him to look up. He didn't. "Heard you were looking for me?"  
  
Zane wasn't sure what to say. Should he play along, see what she would do? Should he mess with her mind a bit, provoke some sort of humorous reaction? Or should he just come right out and say what he had to say?  
  
"You bet," Zane said softly.  
  
Jondy didn't recognize the man, but he obviously knew her, and, not wanting to be rude, decided to play along.  
  
"Was there something specific that you wanted?" she asked sweetly.  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes. There is." Zane said in the same low whisper.  
  
"I'm listening," Jondy said cautiously, getting a bit suspicious of this stranger.  
  
"This isn't the place to talk, about anything," Zane said, becoming uncomfortable as he realized the many sets of eyes form behind the bar that were now glued on the pair.  
  
"Why don't you tell me your name before we leave," Jondy said somewhat warningly.  
  
"This isn't the place for even that," Zane said grabbing her wrist. She automatically tried to wrench it from his grasp, moving to shield the motion from others, as not to arouse suspicion about her strength. But Zane was expecting this, and held onto her tightly. When she couldn't break free, he eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly.  
  
"We have to talk, Jon," Zane whispered in a soft undertone. "But not here."  
  
Not sure what to make of this obviously transgenic stranger who knew real her name, she simply nodded. He motioned for her to come with him out of the bar. She vaulted over the counter and followed his lead, flashing an confident look to Gerry on her way.  
  
After they were out, Zane led Jondy to a nearby bench, on which they both sat. It was now that Zane finally looked her in the eyes.  
  
"Hey Jon," he said quietly.  
  
Jondy's deep eyes widened as she realized who she was speaking with, who was sitting right in front of her. "Zane?"  
  
"Yeah," Zane whispered.  
  
And then, Jondy did something that Zane didn't expect, though he welcomed the gesture. Jondy threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He found himself returning her embrace just as forcefully.  
  
"I missed you Zane," Jondy said softly, whispering in his ear. "I didn't know where you were, I hadn't heard from you in so long. I got worried, I thought maybe," she didn't finish.  
  
"I missed you too, Jondy. I missed you too."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Alec and Max pulled apart after a few moments of reveling in each other's embrace, both confused at hat had just happened, but both grinning almost stupidly at how right it felt.  
  
Alec stared at Max for a while, flabbergasted at what had happened. Then it hit him.  
  
"What happened Max? They told me that you were looking for me. Mole was raising hell down at the infirmary. I thought," Alec paused, but didn't continue the thought.  
  
"Why were you in the infirmary?" Max asked, concern and suspicion lacing her normally angry voice.  
  
"Um," Alec said, not sure whether it was more intelligent to lie to Max and hope she wouldn't find out, or to tell the truth and only upset her at the fact that he'd been stupid enough to do what he did.  
  
"It was nothing," he said simply.  
  
Max looked him up and down, trying to find out if he was telling the truth. She noticed a small fray on the arm of his jacket. Not sure if it was new or from the Jam Pony incident, she moved toward him and gently touched his arm. He flinched, though he hid it well. But the flinch was too noticeable for it to have been in response to the wound he obtained at Jam Pony.  
  
"Let me see it, Alec," she said quietly.  
  
"It's nothing Max, really." Alec protested.  
  
"Nothing my ass, Alec," Max replied, standing her ground. She started to remove his jacket, and, to her surprise, was met with no resistance. Seeing the bloody sleeve of his black shirt, she gingerly rolled it up to reveal the bloody, bandaged wound beneath.  
  
"Alec," she gasped, "What the hell happened?"  
  
"Got in a jam with some Ordinaries outside of here on the way back from Josh's old place," he shrugged, though it was painful, and dismissed the topic as smoothly as he could.  
  
Max let the vague answer slide. At least he'd let her see the wound, and told her something about how he'd gotten it. It was better than nothing. And it looked like the nurse had taken good care of him.  
  
"And you? You never answered my question, you know. I asked you what Mole was doing down there earlier, looking for me. What's wrong?" Alec asked, folding his arms across his chest. Max didn't answer. She didn't want Alec to think she was pretty incapable of handling herself, let alone an entire nation of transgenics, without him. Even if it was true. She couldn't bring herself to admit that she'd fallen apart at the thought that Alec might have left, or gotten killed, or captured, or a number of other horrible scenarios involving Alec.  
  
When had he become so important, so valuable to her? She needed him. He was her support, helping her to see her flaws and to correct them before it was too late. Assisting her whenever he was needed, in whatever it was that needed to be done, without a second thought. And he was always there, something she now realized she took for granted. Alec was a great person, and, for some reason, had stuck around though all of the bullshit and had become an irreplaceable friend.  
  
"It was nothing," Max lied, "Mole had come back from a supply run and was just looking for you. We were helping him."  
  
Alec nodded, though he was slightly disappointed. He'd temporarily forgotten that it wasn't in Max's nature to care that much, and even if, by some freak accident, she did care about someone, she'd never think of admitting it. It'd been childish to think that she could have possibly just been worried about where he was this morning.  
  
"Where were you, anyway?" she asked casually. "I told you. Infirmary, remember?" Alec said curiously. "I mean between then and when you left Joshua's. Logan e-mailed Command between 1:00 and 2:00 this morning saying that they were there. It couldn't have taken you that long to get back," she asked, suspicious once again.  
  
"Had some stuff to sort out Max," Alec said, somewhat guiltily. "Needed to get it out of the way."  
  
Max immediately thought of his Black Market dealings and scams, wondering if the 'things' he was 'taking care of' were for self benefit or for the benefit of the transgenic cause. Then she saw his eyes. The faraway look in his eyes signaled something much more significant than such deals. She watched him closely, watching his mouth silently form three distinct words. 'The High Place.' And Max understood, and questioned him no further.  
  
"How 'bout we head back to Command," Max whispered, grabbing Alec's hand. "See how things are going. How's that?"  
  
Alec looked at her and gave her a small, sincere smile. "Sounds great, Maxie, just great."  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"What is it," a half asleep blonde X5 by the name of Syl to her male X5 boyfriend, Krit, who was attempting to wake her up.  
  
"Syl, wake up. You said you wanted to see that report on the transgenic rebellion up in Seattle. It'll be on soon," Krit said, shaking her lightly.  
  
"Yeah, ok, I'm up," she groaned, pulling herself into a sitting position and facing the dim glow of the television screen. She and Krit had been living in this apartment ever since the whole episode with the DNA Lab. It was a good sized place, big enough for the two of them, small enough to be considered 'homey.' They'd been able to live a normal life, they enjoyed it, and they'd become used it.  
  
But now that there was this transgenic revolution going down in Seattle, and now they were once again forced into the real world. A world that did not and most likely would never accept them for who they really were. They'd both spoken of going to Seattle to do what they could for the transgenic cause, but they'd never gone through with it. They'd heard very little detail about the siege, hence their eagerness to see this report on the matter tonight.  
  
"It's on," Krit said to Syl, who was already beginning to fall back to sleep, as the commercial break ended and a female reporter began her account.  
  
"I'm standing here in front of Terminal City, the stronghold of the transgenic alliance. With me here is Dr. David Morton, an genetic specialist, who is going to give what he believes is a very accurate summary of the occupants of Terminal City, and of the way of life and the leaders inside."  
  
Dr. Morton cleared his throat. He was young, maybe in his thirties. "The transgenics inside are the product of a covert government operation known as Project Manticore. There are four basic divisions of transgenics that we are aware of.  
  
"There are the anomalies, which are combinations of human and animal DNA, though their appearance reflects this; they are literally part animal, part human.  
  
"The transhumans are another division, mostly human, with strange disfigurations due to their unique DNA combinations.  
  
"There is also the Psy-Ops division, human looking transgenics with the ability to manipulate brain waves, alter long and short term memory, and so on.  
  
"Finally, and, in my opinion, the most amazing, are the X series transgenics. They were the successful melding of animal and Human DNA, as the enhancing of normal human abilities. For instance, the X5s are in possession of both the refined human and feline DNA, giving them incredible agility, speed, intelligence, strength, vision, hearing, and countless other such advantages. They are able to integrate into society easily, and were used for mission in which extended human contact was needed. They were perfect soldiers, living in barracks with their units, following orders flawlessly and without question. They have extensive training in weaponry, medicine, technology, language, and other such topics, and yes, they are all trained in assassination. They are considered dangerous," Here the doctor paused, as mug shots of both Alec and Max appeared on the screen. Syl and Krit's jaws dropped.  
  
"Max," Krit whispered in amazement, gaping at the photo of his sister on the screen.  
  
"Krit, is that Ben?" Syl asked tentatively.  
  
"Can't be, but it sure looks like him," Krit replied.  
  
"It is believed that these two X5s are partners, heading the transgenics inside Terminal City and guiding them with their natural leadership skills," the doctor continued.  
  
"We are not positive of their designations, the numbers on their barcodes that identify them," he gestured at the back of his neck, "but it is believed that they were both at the very top of Manticore program, excelling more so than any of the others. The male possibly even more so, rumors indicating he is in possession of quite a bit more training than the female," he concluded.  
  
"Thank you, doctor, and we appreciate your joining us tonight," the reporter smiled and the news continued as usual.  
  
Krit let out a long breath and looked at Syl, who still remained to his side on the bed. She met his gaze, staring at him for a moment. In a silent agreement, they leaped from the bed, gathered some necessary items, and were out of the apartment in no time, beginning the long haul towards Seattle.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
He was watching the news report from the street outside, on one of the many televisions that decorated Fritter's Pre-Pulse Electronics in Portland, Oregon. He'd only just left his 'home', his life as Adam. Zack had been out on his own for a week.  
  
Somehow he'd been able to piece together some the puzzle after having strange, yet recurring dreams about people he could barely remember, but somehow felt like he'd known forever. And Manticore. Once he'd figured everything out, he questioned how exactly he could forget Manticore. It was impossible to forget that hellhole.  
  
But he had in fact remembered his past. Or, at least, what he thought was his past. He remembered to people named Zane and Jondy, who he could swear were living down south. He thought remembered Syl and Krit, who he somehow knew had gotten away after the DNA Lab mission had gone sideways, which he was positive had happened. He smiled at the thought they they'd probably escaped together, and had most likely stayed together. They made a cute couple, as far as he was concerned.  
  
He remembered, with most certainty, Tinga and Ben, and Jack and Eva back at Manticore, all of whom were dead. Dead, in some way, because of him. All because of him.  
  
He remembered Max, the one he'd always had a soft spot for. He wondered if she'd gotten out after they'd captured her. He prayed that she'd made it out alive. But, somewhere in his subconscious, he was sure she had. It was strange with memories of Max. There were so many thoughts involving her, all of which he was sure of, he knew they had happened. And then, there were less vivid memories of her. Incomplete memories, almost.  
  
And he remembered Brin, who he could've sworn Manticore had gotten a hold of and had been reindoctrinated to be a slave once again. It seemed to be true, and Zack held himself responsible for it. He wasn't even sure she had gotten out of Manticore after Max had burned it down. Wait, Max burned Manticore down? When did that happen? How did he know that? Was it true?  
  
Zack paused, and a wave of almost surreal memories came over him. Memories of Seattle. Memories of a man who he somehow associated with the term British Eddie. Memories of himself with some kind of cybernetic arm and some kind of metal plate with a blinking red light covering his one eye. More recent memories of Max. Memories of someone, an X5, a man named Alec. Recent memories of Logan, Max's man. Memories of, ridiculous as it seemed, himself trying to kiss Max. Memories of going after Logan and trying to, to, kill him? Why would he have tried to kill Logan? Not that he really cared for the guy, but he didn't wish him dead. What the hell was he thinking? But then again, now that he thought about it, it seemed as if it was only natural to have at the least attempted to kill the man, like it was something he was supposed to do, something that was expected of him, for the benefit of, someone. Who that someone was, he wasn't sure.  
  
Then it was blank. He remembered waking up at the hospital, and living for months as Adam. But never just as Adam. There as always that voice in the back of his mind, telling him that this wasn't it, that this life wasn't what he should've been doing. Who he should've been helping.  
  
And so he'd come to be where he was. He'd left the farm late one night. He'd doubted his memories while he'd been there, but after abandoning the medication he was taking to, suppress his super-human abilities, of course, he realized that his life was as the man he vaguely Zack, and never as Adam. He'd been a leader. He couldn't abandon his family, if they were real, now that this transgenic thing was going down in Seattle. He had to be sure.  
  
And then everything hit him, all at once. Everything. Upon seeing the faces on the television screen, seeing those people one more time.  
  
Everything from Manticore. Everything from the escape. Everything afterwards, the running, the fighting, the protecting. And then he remembered when things turned upside down. When Brin had to be taken back to Manticore, when Ben had gone back to the Blue lady he so believed in, when Tinga had left her husband and son behind after being killed by that bitch Renfro. And the attack they'd made on the DNA lab, and everything afterward.  
  
He remembered waking up, being told he'd wounded himself in an attempt to save another member of his unit, an noble act, yet foolish. They'd said that he'd been a perfect candidate for some 'experimentation' that would be beneficial to himself and to the program. He had no choice but to comply. He remembered the brainwashing, the training, shooting at photos of the enemy.  
  
Then, on his mission to take down Eyes Only, British Eddie had gotten a hold of him. Zack didn't mind too much, he and his cronies were interesting, if not amusing. It wasn't bothering him much.  
  
And then he'd run into Max. He couldn't believe he didn't recognize her. She was his sister, his family, and he couldn't even figure out her name. He mentally slapped himself at that realization. Alec had been with her. Were they together? The made a cute couple, Zack thought for a second time that night.  
  
And then he'd seen Logan, knew he was Eyes Only, remembered his mission. And in the process, Max had been captured. He'd gone to rescue her, and for some reason beyond his only recently restored knowledge, attempted to show something more than brotherly affection to her. He knew that he and Max were siblings, and that was it. And neither wanted it any different. But one of Manticore's experiments must have confused him quite a bit in the romance department, and her refusal of him was, at the time, infuriating.  
  
And so he'd gone to kill Logan, on a stupid impulse, on a foolish whim, unplanned, executed on anger alone. Gone to complete one of the missions he'd fought against most of his life. And somehow, though now he knew it was wrong, it seemed so right to have wanted him dead, to want to finish him off, to take him out of the picture for good. And then, it went black. And when light returned, he was Adam. Now it all made sense. Everything clicked.  
  
Zack stood there for what seemed like forever, simply staring blankly off into space, through the glass of the store window. At one point in time, he would've most likely either gotten arrested for loitering, or had at least been subject to strange looks at every turn. But nowadays, he was left alone to sort out his thoughts, to relive this possibility, these memories, this newly reinstated past.  
  
And after doing so, Zack did what came naturally. He decided to head out to Seattle to help with the resistance. But before doing so, he had some people he really needed to talk to, and some that he really needed to see. If they even existed in this life.  
  
A/N: I'm not exactly fond of some of this chapter. I'm not sure I captured Zack well, but I tried to make his confusion obvious, yet not so domineering as his protective nature toward all of his siblings. And when he regains his memory, I wanted it to be rapid, but believable. Not sure I succeeded. And, all of you writers will probably agree with me, my depiction of Max was very difficult, and therefore, I'm not sure about how convincing it is. Oh well, other than that, I'm pretty satisfied with this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it!  
  
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!  
  
-AntipodeanOpaleye 


	4. Beyond Vague

Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy  
  
By AntipodeanOpaleye  
  
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: Wow, Chapter Four. I apologize for the delay. First I want to thank Johan for looking over this chapter before it was posted, and giving me the suggestions I needed to get to work on this. Thank You SOOO Much!!! Also, to all of my reviewers, you are pretty much the only reason this went farther than another abandoned one chapter piece. You are all so awesome!  
  
Anyway, this chapter is still leading up to more interesting things, so, if your bored, I promise more action in the upcoming chapters. I have more to say, but if I say it now, I'll give away parts of the chapter. So, read the AN at the bottom for some more explanations and such.  
  
Anyway, hope you like it!  
  
  
  
Chapter Four: Beyond Vague  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hey boys, look what the cat drug in," Mole said with as much of a smile as he could achieve, being the pessimist he was, when Max strode into Command, Alec sauntering in behind her. "Sorry Max, uh, no pun intended," he added at the odd look she directed his way in response to the feline comparison.  
  
"Hey Alec. Max," Dix said, looking up from his computer. Luke and Josh were absent from the group, Joshua having gone to help Gem with the baby, and Luke having tagged along to assist them.  
  
"Dix, how's is going buddy?" Alec asked as he walked over to him a clapped on the shoulder.  
  
"Pretty well, actually," Dix reported with a grin. "I've been looking up a lot of things pertaining to the cause," he shot a pointed look Alec's way when no one was looking, and Alec gave a discreet nod.  
  
Dix knew that Alec didn't want Max, or anyone, for that matter, knowing about some of the things he'd asked Dix to look into for him. And Dix was happy to help. He really liked Alec. Alec respected him, as he did with all of the other transgenics in Terminal City. Not that he didn't like Max or some of the others, or that they didn't treat him well. It was just that there was something about Alec that was, different. He was so much more laid back, so much more sociable and friendly, and so much more appreciative of everyone and everything they did. Dix would even say that Alec was probably the most loyal and, ironic as it seemed, dependable transgenic he knew. Fate just didn't seem to favor him very much. Alec was definitely the most good-hearted person Dix knew, and he knew quite a wide variety of people.  
  
"Great," Alec said in response to Dix's announcement. "I'll come by later and see what you've got so far."  
  
"Sounds great," Dix replied knowingly, looking forward to sharing the information with Alec. He was quite proud of what he'd come up with, to say the least.  
  
"Alec," Mole called him over to the other side of the room, away from Max, who had now taken Alec's place in speaking to Dix. Alec made his way over to him promptly.  
  
"Yeah?" Alec asked the lizard-like man in front of him.  
  
"Look, Dix was thinking about asking Max about this, but we didn't know if she could, uh, 'handle it'," Mole emphasized his last words, making it clear that he seriously doubted Max's ability to correctly take care of whatever situation was at hand.  
  
"What is it?" Alec asked, pinning Mole with a strange glance.  
  
"Well," Mole sighed in irritated exasperation, "Me and Josh were out this morning, you know, making supply deliveries and that type of thing. And we found the body of one of the Ordinaries outside some new outlet we found, after Joshua tracked the scent and all. We got the body out of sight before anyone saw it, as far as we know. Looked like there was only a small group manning the area. There were quite a few of them knocked out, too," Mole paused and Alec took the opportunity to add to the one sided conversation.  
  
"Did they come around? Were they all right?" Alec somewhat asked urgently, feeling increasingly guilty for what he'd done to them, even though he'd had no choice. In Mole's opinion, Alec sounded a slight bit too urgent. Any other transgenic wouldn't have thought twice about such questions. Mole, on the other hand, wasn't any other transgenic. Mole didn't tolerate sympathy for the death or injury of Ordinaries, and he had his valid reasons, though what they were, few people were aware of. And so, when someone like Alec showed such an emotion, Mole was more than tempted to press the topic. But he let it slide, resolving to bring it up later in the discussion.  
  
"Yeah, they did, eventually. With a little help. We got Dalton, you know, the X6 kid from Jam Pony?" Alec nodded and Mole continued.  
  
"We got him to come over when they woke up, you know, told 'em that they got into some of those chemicals around here on accident and it knocked 'em out cold. Told 'em they might be delusional for a while. Well, I was right when I said Ordinaries will believe anything," Mole referred to one of him infamous assumptions of the humans, "'cause those guys bought it; hook, line, and sinker." Alec remembered Dalton having casually said that he'd excelled in persuasive techniques back and Manticore, which was to him obvious now. "Didn't take 'em long to leave after that. Why d'ya ask?" Mole questioned him curiously.  
  
"No reason," Alec said, eyeing Mole almost dangerously, though not quite. Mole wasn't swayed.  
  
"What was it? Why would you care about what happened with them?" Alec opened his mouth to say something, but Mole cut him off. "And don't go sayin' that shit about exposure and bad publicity for us. There's more to it than that. And I wanna know what that more is."  
  
If it were any other pair in Terminal City, things would most likely have turned physically violent at this point. But Alec was the only person Mole seriously trusted in TC, and Alec had, for some strange reason, had taken a liking to Mole and his exaggerated 'wage war' attitude. And so, Alec sighed and prepared to explain what had happened to Mole. But Mole wasn't exactly a patient transgenic, and had already resumed his tirade, trying to convince Alec to spill his story.  
  
"You know who did it, don't you? It was obviously the work of an X5," Mole prodded. "Someone you knew from back at Manticore, perhaps, one of your own unit?" Mole contemplated his next comment, hoping to push Alec just that slight bit too far in order to persuade him to tell. Deliver a blow that he was sure would shock Alec's manly pride. "One of your superiors, maybe? A Commanding Officer?"  
  
Alec's head whipped around as he turned to face Mole head on. His eyes were angry, yet somehow, guilty. Almost desperate. But his voice was even, though cutting.  
  
"There were no transgenics at the Manticore compound who were considered my superiors. Or at least, none that I was required to answer to. And I have no reason to cover for anyone anymore. Those kinds of things don't matter anymore."  
  
Mole maintained eye contact with Alec, and could tell there was more to the situation than that. So, being the demanding type of person he was, he pushed on.  
  
"That ain't it Alec. What are you turning on us? Sympathizing with the enemy?" Mole could've stopped there, and he was well aware of that. But Mole was one of those people who enjoy exaggerations and love to jump to conclusions. Drastic conclusions. And though Alec was the last person he would expect, he had to be sure. He needed to go in for the kill, even though he regretted what he'd need to say in order to do so.  
  
"Maybe you've gone past sympathizing, Alec. Maybe you're with them. Maybe you're the traitor. I mean, it's bad enough Max trusts Cale so damn much. But it's a hell of a lot worse when you go beyond trusting. And you should know that we transgenics don't punish treason lightly."  
  
That was the last straw for Alec. He spun around and grabbed Mole by the collar. "What the hell is your problem Alec?" Mole hissed, thought he was somewhat surprised at Alec's strength.  
  
"Dammit, Mole!" Alec lashed back. "I took them out. I killed that guy. I did it!" Alec's breathing was erratic as he held Mole, his arm shaking slightly in rage. Then, he simply let go. Mole stumbled slightly as Alec's grip was released, watching Alec lean dependently on the nearby wall, throwing his head back against it. He closed his eyes and caught his breath while Mole simply continued to stand there and watch.  
  
"What other transgenic would have taken the time not to simply kill those people? It takes some concentration and precision to be sure they woke up with some sort of memory loss instead of just tossing those weaklings around like a damn ragdoll," Alec said through clenched teeth. And then, in such a small voice that Mole had to strain to hear it. "This isn't me anymore."  
  
"What?" Mole asked.  
  
"Killing people. I mean, had they died, they would have deserved it. They shot at us first. But I didn't want to kill them. I don't want any more blood on my hands. There's too much there already," Alec's voice was quiet as he spoke.  
  
"What if they threatened one of us?" Mole asked, wanting to know exactly where Alec stood in all of this, as long as he'd already gotten himself knee-deep into the subject. "What if they threatened Max?"  
  
Alec looked up, his face set, his eyes determined. "I'd kill 'em without a second thought. Like the guy that was dead out there. He was a Familiar. And he died at my hand, didn't he?"  
  
"Yeah," Mole said, somewhat surprised that Alec had taken out a Familiar single handedly that morning.  
  
"This whole cause is my life now, Mole. I've learned better than to throw away something like that. I wouldn't betray this. I wouldn't have anything left." Alec was embarrassed at what he'd said, but there was nothing else that he could have said, and he knew that. But he still wasn't sure why the hell he'd come out and said something like that. Said it to Mole, no less. He sighed once more, waiting for Mole's undoubtedly sarcastically mocking reply. What he got was quite different.  
  
"I, um, I'm," Mole sputtered uncharacteristically. "I'm, uh, sorry, Alec. I didn't know."  
  
Alec looked strangely at Mole, wondering if Mole had a clone that had come and taken his place, because such a reaction was definitely not going to come from the Mole he knew. But, logically speaking, Alec seriously doubted that the anomalies would have been twinned, and so he moved away from the wall and approached Mole.  
  
"It's all right," Alec said sincerely. And, having learned such an action from his friend Sketchy, bumped fists with Mole. Mole chuckled in his rough sort of way at the motion, but complied. "Oh, and do me a favor. Let's keep this between you and me, all right?" And with a nod, Mole turned to leave.  
  
"And Mole?" Alec called at the lizard man's retreating back. "Do something with the body."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Garret. Garret. Garret, wake up. Garret!"  
  
It was when his wife's singsong voice had turned harsh that he thought it wise to pull himself out of bed. Though he still wasn't happy about it.  
  
"Ugh," Garret groaned irritably, refusing to open his eyes. He buried his head stubbornly into his pillow. "You do know that not all X5s are into wake up calls, right?"  
  
"I happen to know for a fact that you never slept in back at Manticore," the female voice called from the bathroom across the room. "And besides, it's already 7:30. That isn't even remotely early."  
  
"Maybe not for you!" Garret continued to complain. "Honestly, Brin. I haven't had a decent night sleep since we've been married!"  
  
"But not entirely because I prefer that your lazy ass gets out of bed at a decent time, correct?" Brin stuck her head out of the bathroom, a wry grin on her face, which was only halfway made up, which gave her the amusing look of a very attractive clown. Garret fought the urge to laugh, knowing that if he did, he'd pay for it later.  
  
"Of course not!" Garret replied, feigning offense. "But seriously, Bri. Just because you were Renfro's right hand woman and were up at all hours of the night doesn't mean the rest did the same."  
  
"Don't remind me," Brin muttered, referring to her time at Manticore with Renfro. Garret knew how much it bothered her.  
  
After the DNA database had been destroyed, Brin had been put in solitary for a week in punishment for allowing 452 to get away. And then, she'd been shipped off to join Renfro at the Seattle facility. She'd been stripped of her responsibilities to the Director and had been thrown into one of the Special Ops units, all of whom trained together, without interaction with the other X5s. Garret, or X5-841 as he was at the time, had been her Commanding Officer. And he'd been somewhat attracted to her from the moment she'd joined their group. But her reindoctrination had been harsh, and the loss of her status had been a tough blow for her. So when the facility had been compromised, Brin had resolved to stay behind. But Garret was about to have any of his unit's deaths on his hands, least of all Brin's. And so, after subduing the feisty X5, he escaped the flames with Brin in his arms. He'd gotten as far as a small, run down motel about ten klicks or so north, northeast from the Manticore site. He'd rented a room after knocking over one of the small general stores nearby. And there he'd waited for Brin to come around. He still remembered what had happened when she finally did.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" Brin shrieked in anger at her Commanding Officer, who was taking a look at the large gash that marred her right leg.  
  
"Yeah, good morning to you, too," 841 drawled sarcastically. "What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
Brin dismissed his comments. "Where the hell are we?"  
  
"In Bora Bora, sweetheart. Ya better turn over, you're startin' to burn."  
  
"Don't play smart ass," Brin shot back.  
  
"Where does it look like we are?" 841 shouted at her. "We're in a motel. A shitty motel, at that. And you were injured on the way here, and I was taking a look at the wound. Is that a crime?"  
  
"And if it is? I didn't want out. I should've gone down with command," she snapped back at him.  
  
"Now I can see why Renfro didn't want you around. You're mentally unstable."  
  
"Damn you!" Brin cried out as she leaped up, ready to smack her former CO. Well, at least, she attempted to leap, though due to injury, she stumbled back onto the bed with a small whimper.  
  
"Careful," 841's voice was gentle, yet reprimanding. "We've only been here for a few hours. You'll be good as new in the morning."  
  
"Whatever you say," Brin muttered irritatedly, knowing he was right.  
  
"That's right. Whatever I say."  
  
"Men," Brin rolled her eyes as she made the remark.  
  
"We are fabulous creatures, aren't we?" 841's voice was audacious.  
  
"Fabulously incompetent, fabulously annoying, shall I continue?"  
  
"No, your voice is giving me a migraine," 841 rubbed his forehead.  
  
"We're going to have to look for any signs of the reestablishment of command," Brin commented distractedly.  
  
"What? They tried to kill us!"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Brin countered. "They were trying to protect the site!"  
  
"My ass," 841 retaliated. "They were blatantly shooting at us! Manticore isn't all roses without the thorns, 734! In fact, the bad often outweighs the good where they're concerned. And damn! You're an '09 escapee! Even your reindoctrination couldn't have wiped all of the obstinacy from that pretty little head!"  
  
And Brin was silent. She appeared to have been stricken by his words. Her face went pale, her bottom lip began to tremble, and she began to sob uncontrollably. And, not knowing what else to do, 841 wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close to him until the both fell asleep.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
841, now Garret, in likeness to his mission alias, had taken care of Brin throughout her confusion. And, once she was able to stand on her own two feet, and able to recall the valid reasons for her escape in '09. And after she'd been able to hold her own once more as well as any transgenic could, he decided to leave her to herself.  
  
But, ironically, Brin wasn't very fond of that idea.  
  
And so, they'd stayed together and later married, settling just outside Spokane. And they'd been happy together. Except for the occasional minor breakdown on Brin's part, mostly due to her anguish over what she'd done to her family after she'd been recaptured by Manticore. It was because of this that she never attempted to find the siblings she escaped with so long ago.  
  
  
  
Garret rolled over onto his side, searching blindly for the television remote control on the nightstand next to him. After locating it, he turned the news on.  
  
The female reporter for Channel 8 News was just finishing up her account.  
  
"For those of you only just tuning in to this Special Report," she droned, "we are here bringing you coverage of the Transgenic Siege at Terminal City."  
  
"Brin," Garret called to her. "You should come in and see this." He'd heard bits and pieces about the transgenic situation in Seattle, but nothing solid. And honestly, he hadn't wanted to go to any trouble to try and find out anything more about it. He didn't want to get killed, to get Brin killed, any more than the next guy. But as far as he could tell, things were heating up dangerously. And he couldn't just abandon his own kind. And when it came down to it, he knew Brin felt the same way.  
  
"What is." Brin began as she emerged from the bathroom, her makeup now complete. She stopped short as she saw the familiar scene the woman was reporting on.  
  
"We're going to flash those photos again," the reporter informed her television audience. These two transgenics, X5s to be more specific, are believed to be heading the siege together."  
  
And, as expected, the regular photos of Max and Alec appeared side by side on the screen.  
  
"If you have any information on these two transgenics, you are encouraged to inform Sector Police immediately as this pair of X5s are considered to be highly dangerous."  
  
Garret turned the television off abruptly, noticing the almost sick look on his wife's face.  
  
"What's the matter, Brin?" he asked.  
  
"That's Max, and, Ben. But Ben's dead."  
  
"Max and Ben, as in, your siblings, Max and Ben?" Garret asked, disconcerting the fact that Ben was supposedly dead for the moment.  
  
"Yeah," Brin replied in a breathless whispered, whatever color was left in her usually tanned skin disappearing.  
  
"What are you going to do about it?" Garret asked bluntly.  
  
"I don't know," Brin said, fear lacing her voice.  
  
"Why are you so scared of them, Brin?" Garret asked. "They love you. It wasn't your fault that Manticore got you. You didn't have a choice in what they did to you. You can't be accountable for your actions while you were under their influence. They won't hold that against you."  
  
And with her next words, Brin surprised her husband. "You're right."  
  
"And?" Garret pushed her.  
  
"We leave ASAP," Brin answered, determined. "We won't desert out kind. I won't do that again. Not again."  
  
And with that, she went to her dresser to pack some of the necessary items she would take. Garret smiled at his wife and rose to do the same.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"So," Jondy said after Zane had explained his plan. "You want me to come with you to Seattle in order to help save all of the wayward transgenics."  
  
Zane smiled as he leaned back in his seat. "More or less."  
  
They'd long since left the benches they'd occupied and had gone to a nearby coffee shop to grab a drink. At this point they were finishing the last of their almost flavorless purchases.  
  
"It'll take a day or so with Sector Checkpoints and such," Jondy commented as she lifted her cup to her lips. "It's just going to be us, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Zane replied quietly.  
  
"What about the others?"  
  
"I don't have a clue where they are," Zane whispered. "I mean, me and you hooked up, same with Krit and Syl. No one else knew, except,"  
  
"Zack," they finished together. They sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on their CO, whom had done so much for them, but had paid so high a price.  
  
"Maybe they'll have already gotten to Terminal City," Zane said hopefully.  
  
"And what about those two shots they keep putting on the news, the supposed leaders of the transgenic nation or whatever," Jondy said. "Don't you think the look familiar?"  
  
"They look like Max and Ben," Zane said slowly. "But Ben's," he didn't have to finish to have his point across.  
  
"I know," Jondy whispered. "But you're right. We need to go. To at least see if we can do anything to help them. That's our people. We can't just desert them."  
  
"I agree." Zane replied. "We have to go." He sighed. "When?"  
  
"As soon as we can get out," Jondy shot back. "I don't have anything here. It's your call."  
  
"I guess we should go shopping for a car," Zane said with a grin, not having hot-wired a car for quite some time.  
  
Jondy smiled broadly as she stood from the booth and walked slowly toward the door. "Read my mind."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Krit!" Syl complained as she trudged behind him as they made their way through the woods along the highway. "What is your problem! We could've very easily stolen a car, or couple of bikes! But walk? All the way to Seattle? You've got to be kidding me!"  
  
Krit sighed in exasperation. "Syl, how many times have I explained this to you? We don't know what kind of security or precautions they're taking against the transgenics up here. We can't risk it. We'll be there by sundown, if everything goes according to plan."  
  
"Whatever, Krit." Syl spat out in disgust. "Whatever."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Senator McKinley, please," Ames White spoke into his cell phone.  
  
"May I ask who's calling?" the young secretary asked automatically.  
  
"Special Agent Ames White," he replied suavely. He kind of liked the way that sounded. Though the thought of when he'd last used the title brought back somewhat embarrassing memories for the youngish, male Familiar.  
  
"One moment please, sir," the woman said as she forwarded him through to the Senator himself.  
  
"McKinley," the middle aged senator answered the call stiffly.  
  
"Fe'nos tol," White replied casually.  
  
It was obvious in his voice that McKinley relaxed considerably upon the greeting. "Fe'nos tol."  
  
"Tough day?" White inquired sarcastically.  
  
McKinley chuckled slightly. "You could say that." Then, more seriously, "Dr. Sandeman certainly went out of his way to make trouble for us when he created these transgenics. They're going to give us a run for our money, Ames."  
  
"Unfortunately," White replied.  
  
"Will he talk? Have you gotten anything out of him about his time with the transgenics?" McKinley asked, referring to C.J.  
  
"Nothing. I've tried everything I can think of. And we can't afford to kill him; the information he has is most likely indispensable." White answered disgustedly. "But we can't wait forever. We're running out of time."  
  
"I know, Ames." McKinley said, exasperated. "But there is something you need to know."  
  
White knew that whatever it was that McKinley was going to tell him, it was most likely far from good. "I'm listening."  
  
"The transgenics haven't a clue about what awaits them in the future. Dr. Sandeman is the only we that we know of that is aware of the Coming in its entirety. As of as recently as last week, we had him pinpointed at a specific location where we had been keeping an eye on him from a distance. But as of last night, he was no where to be found at this location. We have no idea where he might be, though we assume that he will try to establish contact, whether in person or otherwise, with the transgenics. He's an intelligent man, Ames, and he has more knowledge on our cause than most, as well as an infinite supply of information on the transgenics. The Conclave is unsure whether we will be able to stop him should he attempt to warn the transgenics."  
  
"Why do I sense a but coming here?" White asked sardonically.  
  
"It is the opinion of The Conclave that regardless if we can deter Sandeman from successfully alerting the transgenics, we should at least be aware of what exactly he decides to divulge. And when. This is where you come in, Ames."  
  
"They want you to send someone inside. They are to pose as a transgenic in as convincible a fashion as possible for as long as they can maintain the cover. They are to take no actions to expose themselves, and if they must destroy their own in the process, so be it. They are to inflict no harm on the transgenics inside, or Sandeman should he arrive. But it is imperative that once we formulate a plan of retaliation, your insider will need to be terminated."  
  
"I'm not quite sure," White started, but was cut off.  
  
"Neither am I, Ames. These orders came from high up. Even I am not sure about this motion is supposed to accomplish. But I do advise you to be prompt, and refrain from asking any further questions unless they absolutely necessary."  
  
"I understand," Ames answered coldly, though somewhat dejectedly. If it weren't for his father, he would most likely already have a ranking in the The Conclave. But, as it was, he wasn't quite there yet. Someday, but not right then. He did have his position of succession secured, after all. At least he wasn't the rookie who was going to be doomed to pose as one of those pieces of transgenic filth. Now there was a comforting thought.  
  
"Good. It is to your benefit that you do. To the benefit of us all."  
  
"Fe'nos tol," White replied, ready to end the talk.  
  
"I will be in contact with you Ames. Very soon. Fe' nes tol." And with that, the Senator cut the conversation off.  
  
White closed his cell and slipped it back into the pocket of the jacket of his suit. He leaned back in his very comfortable office chair, swinging his legs up to rest on the desk in front of him. He threw his head back and sighed. This was not going as planned. Nothing was. First it was the transgenics. Then it was Wendy. Then Ray. And now this.  
  
There was a soft knock on the solid oak door across the room. White removed his legs from the desktop and returned to a sitting position.  
  
"Come in," he said in his characteristic voice that made him sound superior. And not a single person at the agency had questioned that implied superiority to date.  
  
"Sir?" the young man asked as he eased open the door, though before entering the office.  
  
"Otto," White said in a much more welcoming tone than he'd used before. Somehow, he'd taken a strange sort of liking to the young operative that had been assigned to the transgenic project under his supervision. "What exactly is it that I can do for you?"  
  
Otto closed the door slowly behind him. "Well, sir. We've been searching for more of those Thermal Imagers you wanted, but production was shut down after The Pulse. We've been able to locate a few of the more primitive models, but the sensitivity rate is less than desirable. We're still checking into revamping them with the newer technology, but none of them are in particularly good shape. We have a few dealings in the works with some international agencies, none of which are proving to be highly reliable."  
  
White reclined slightly in his chair and looked at the young agent in front of him. He rotated a pen in his hands distractedly. "And how do we plan on handling the situation?"  
  
"Well sir, we've revoked all of the Imagers that we'd provided Sector Police with. Our total amounts to seventeen all together. Not nearly enough to equip all of the imperative checkpoints, plus a decent radius around Terminal City. And one without the other is simply useless. We have some personnel that are looking into replicating the Imagers, as well as updating the earlier versions we've uncovered. But without the right equipment, they can hardly begin to analyze them, let alone discover whether or not it is even possible to satisfy our demand. And I think you'll agree with me that such technology is going to be hard to come by, and more expensive than the government will be willing to put into this, especially if we aren't positive that it will benefit the cause."  
  
"Otto, my friend, I believe you've got our government's inner workings figured out pretty well." White paused, apparently debating what their plan of action should be.  
  
"Start a search for the equipment we're going to need. International, second hand, wherever you can find it. Look into the Black Market, there should be some dealers down there that can to least point us in the right direction. Give me a report by Friday." When Otto didn't reply, and simply continued to stand in front of the desk, Ames took the initiative to dismiss him.  
  
"That gives you only a little over two days. I suggest you start now."  
  
"Oh! Yes, sir." And with that, Otto left the office. White followed him to the door and locked it as soon as he was out. He walked back to his desk and collapsed into his chair once more.  
  
He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a large framed photo of himself, and his son Ray. He smiled solemnly and the picture, remembering the day it had been taken. It had been after he had taken Ray to Brookridge. They'd spent quite a bit of time together after he'd started there, and Ames had enjoyed every minute of it. He'd really never been much a family man before, but when family had presented itself to him in the form of his son Ray, he'd been unable to resist it. Which had made for a harsh blow when 452 had interfered. And because of her, he'd lost his only son. Was Ray even alive? Logically, no, he wasn't. But no real father would give up until they knew for sure. And technically, he wasn't a real father; he was more than that. And so, he would find Ray. If it killed him, he would find his son. And if anything had happened to Ray, he'd make sure 452 would pay.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Gill Dallas sat at the small, run-down table in his small farmhouse in what had become the countryside near the boarder of Washington and Oregon. The evening sun was streaming in through the window, illuminating the room. He casually sipped his herbal tea as he read a rural newspaper.  
  
"Gill," his wife Eileen called from the kitchen area, you have a telephone call.  
  
"Be right there," he called back. The phone call bothered him slightly. No one ever bothered to call Gillard Ruffus Dallas, the middle aged farmer who'd been abandoned after the Pulse and had been wandering around with long term amnesia for years. The only reason someone would call would be if they knew who he really was. If they wanted to track him down. If they wanted him dead. But, then again, Donald Lydecker had become extremely paranoid after going into hiding with a new identity.  
  
"Who is it?" he asked his wife quietly as he took the phone. She shrugged casually and walked out of the room to resume the sewing project she had deserted to answer the call.  
  
"Hello?" Lydecker aka Gill spoke into the antique receiver.  
  
"Hi there," a deep, male voice answers on the other end.  
  
"Who is this?" Lydecker asked, somewhat apprehensive.  
  
"Patience, patience. All in good time. As long as you cooperate, no one will get hurt."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Donald asked.  
  
"For the head of a secret government agency, you're pathetic at covering your tracks, Lydecker."  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Lydecker hissed into the phone.  
  
"As I said, all in good time, given you cooperate. Which I suggest you do. You of all people should know what we're capable of doing to ensure that you go along with what we have planned."  
  
"What are you?" Lydecker growled again.  
  
"I'm one of your precious little children, 'Deck. One of your crowning achievements. Your perfect creations. Your scientific mishaps. A child of Manticore. Come to The Olde Towne Motel at midnight. Alone. Wait outside next to the phone booth on the right. Make sure you don't confuse this with the booth on the left. Stay there, don't attract attention. I'll approach you. If you chose not to come, I think you can imagine my planned course of action should the time arrive. Tick tock."  
  
And the line went dead.  
  
Only a few miles away, in the phone booth to the right of The Olde Towne Motel, Zack hung up the phone and walked into the motel, preparing to take a room for the evening. He was ready, and waiting, to have a long impending chat with Donald Lydecker.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
"Dix," Alec called over to the transhuman, who was sitting behind a computer, later that evening. "Alec," Dix looked up from his work with a grin.  
  
"Got a second?" Alec looked uncomfortably around, scanning the area for people. No one. Mole had gone to take care of that Familiar, Josh and Luke were still helping Gem, Max had gone down to see a few X5 females to talk about some 'girly topic;' children, via the breeding program, no doubt. All of stragglers that used the Command area as means of transport or other such intentions, were, for one reason or another, no where to be found. Which was for the best, because it was imperative that no one but Alec and Dix overheard the conversation.  
  
"Of course," Dix replied, closing the many different windows littering the desktop of the screen. He clicked on multiple different icons, while Alec followed every move and committed it to memory. Each window popped up promptly, and in turn, requested a password for further access.  
  
'tc150'  
  
'trans5'  
  
'chimera658'  
  
'manticore874'  
  
'gentics95'  
  
'freak22'  
  
'jp02'  
  
'familiar78'  
  
'psyops26' ' reindoc47'  
  
"Real original passwords you got there," Alec commented in an undertone. Dix spin around in his chair. He was somewhat surprised that Alec had picked up the passwords, being that Dix took care not to allow such carelessness when dealing with any of the files. He knew what the transgenics were capable of picking up from which angles and at what distances, and he made sure that none of them were able to decipher his typing. But Alec wasn't just any transgenic. Not that it mattered, he would have given Alec the passwords had he asked without question.  
  
"I change them every few days," Dix replied. "Sometimes more often."  
  
Alec nodded approvingly.  
  
"I've found quite a bit information on most of the topics you requested," Dix said as he typed away, never taking his eyes off of the screen, and Alec never looking away. "I've got some stuff from Manticore, hacked into old databases that were obviously transferred to a different server and were never disconnected. There was nothing specifically on The Coming, the runes, or any of Sandeman's personal accounts. Though, with quite a bit of luck, I was able to find most of the other files you wanted." Dix handed him a considerable stack of worm manila folders, each filled with reports from Manticore.  
  
  
  
Alec sifted through them. X5-521. "Biggs." X5-599. "Zack." A number of other files were attached together. "The other '09 escapes." X5-452 was separate. "Max." As was X5-493. "Ben." And finally, the file for X5-494. "And me. Thanks Dix. You have no clue," Alec started, but Dix cut him off.  
  
  
  
  
  
"It's no problem, Alec. Anything for a friend."  
  
  
  
  
  
Alec smiled as Dix continued.  
  
  
  
  
  
"I tried to find some things on the Breeding Cult, but I couldn't find anything. I did, however intercept a transmission from somewhere in DC to Senator McKinley. Which brings me to another one of things you asked about. The Familiars have been watching Sandeman for some time at the same location. But he just recently disappeared. That's all I know."  
  
"Wonder where Sandeman's headed." Alec wondered aloud.  
  
Dix nodded. "I got as much as I could of the Ancient Minoan translations as I could find. Here's what I got out of them, just slightly different from what you said Logan had."  
  
Multiple images of Max's rune-filled skin flashed on the screen at high- speed, the runes rearranging themselves into what looked liked multiple sentences and phrases.  
  
"And then you have the new runes." Dix said as he clicked on a small folder icon, revealing new photos, which flashed on the screen and added themselves to the string of meaningless symbols on the screen.  
  
"Not all of the symbols had relevant meanings, or no meaning at all. In which cases I assumed the runes were written not in the tradition Minoan, but in a derivative of the original. So I looked up the translations of the runes in all of the other ancient Greek languages, and I found the most accurate transliteration. It makes for a much more consistent interpretation of the message." Dix clicked a green button on the middle- right of the screen. In an instant, the entire jumble of runes was transcribed into Modern English.  
  
"When the shroud of death covers the face of the earth, the ones whose power is hidden will join together, and join as one to deliver the helpless." Alec read in a whisper. He gaped at Dix, shock written clearly on his features.  
  
"So there's someone else. Max isn't the only one." Alec concluded.  
  
"And my guess is that whoever this person is, they'll have the runes Max has, and those symbols will complete the message." Dix added.  
  
"Do you have any guesses on who it could be?" Alec asked distractedly.  
  
"Well," Dix said, "My guess is that Max is useless without this person. Not only does this person enable her to 'deliver the helpless' so to speak, I think that she depends on this person emotionally. I don't believe that Sandeman would try to force two complete stranger with no existing bond together in such a desperate situation. And I supposed a first guess would be one of her siblings. Maybe her blood brother. But though she cares for them deeply, loves them even, she doesn't depend on them, doesn't need them by her side. So, if you're asking me if I have any idea who this other someone is, I'd say it was you, Alec."  
  
Alec looked dumbfounded at this. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. As realistic as it was, he hadn't thought that it was even remotely possible that *he* was the one Max depended on. That she needed. That he might just be half of the key to saving the world.  
  
Alec picked up the files that he'd laid on a nearby desk and prepared to leave. His eyes darted around the still deserted Command area. He'd forgotten to check for intruders the entire time.  
  
"Don't worry, Alec. No one came in." Dix assured him.  
  
"Thanks Dix," Alec said sincerely, his eyes revealing his confusing, his fright, but also his childish excitement. Dix smiled.  
  
"Anytime Alec. Anytime."  
  
As Alec turned to leave, Dix called out to him.  
  
"Oh. And Alec?"  
  
He looked casually over his shoulder.  
  
"You might be wanting these," Dix said as he threw a small set of keys to the X5. "We found an old studio down by Oak Street. It's in the Fulton Building, third floor, second door on the right."  
  
Alec stopped and turned around, studying the keys in his hand, knowing immediately what was waiting in the room they unlocked. He grinned happily.  
  
"Thank you Dix. I needed this."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Donald Lydecker flashed his Sector Pass distractedly at a passing officer. He was continuously looking over his shoulder, his paranoia getting the best of him. He walked slowly to the phone booth on the right, waiting next to it as he'd been instructed. He pulled the collar of his jacket up to ward off the chilling wind, though it was a futile motion.  
  
He heard something move behind him, but after he'd turned, it was gone. He looked to his left, then to his right, but there was no one in sight.  
  
It was only after the fact that he realized that he should have thought to look upward.  
  
  
  
It happened in a split second. There was no warning, no time to think. A figured leaped from above and landed in a catlike position, dangerously close to having crushed Lydecker in its deplaning. It remained in the same feline position for a few moments, a low, angry growl coming from the being as it straightened itself.  
  
"Well, well, well," the male transgenic said in a low, threatening tone. "Looks like Donald Lydecker isn't as formidable as he once was."  
  
"You're an X5," Lydecker responded knowingly, having deduced so by the landing.  
  
"No shit, Sherlock," the man retorted. He stepped forward, revealing himself to the elder of the pair.  
  
"559." Lydecker said in a whisper, a mixture of wonder, fright, and anger lacing his voice.  
  
"Took you long enough," Zack said sarcastically.  
  
"What do you want from me?" Lydecker asked, his voice betraying the hostility he was experiencing. Zack smirked.  
  
"Revenge. Payback. Compensation. Not that you would ever be able to give back what you've taken from us. Your whole life isn't even worth that."  
  
"What are you talking about, 599?" Lydecker demanded condescendingly. He soon realized that was a mistake.  
  
In the blink of an eye, Zack had Lydecker by the neck, holding him powerfully up against the side of the phone booth.  
  
"My name is Zack," he hissed. "Not 599. Not Adam. Zack. See that you remember that." And he let Lydecker fall from his grasp, crumpling to the ground.  
  
"You know what's happening. To us. Our kind. And it's all your fault. All of it. And you're going to help us, whether you like it or not." Zack's eyes burned into Lydecker, so intense it was almost painful.  
  
"I tried to help you," Lydecker choked. "It was the."  
  
"I don't care what you tried to do. The point is that after the fact, you hid. You were a coward, and you know it. And I think that you should accept the chance to redeem yourself that I'm offering."  
  
"What did you have in mind?" Lydecker asked.  
  
"Terminal City need supplies. They need as much help as they can get. They need information on Manticore, and on a whole hell of a lot else. I have a feeling you can help with that."  
  
"They need leadership first," Lydecker pointed out.  
  
"They already have leadership," Zack spat.  
  
"Who?" Lydecker asked, genuinely curious.  
  
"Max and Alec," the names rolled confidently of the X5's tongue.  
  
"Alec?" Lydecker asked, dumbfounded.  
  
"Alec is," Zack tried to remember something about the X5. "Ben's twin."  
  
"X5-494?" Lydecker asked incredulously.  
  
"We aren't numbers, 'Deck." Zack said warningly.  
  
"No matter," Lydecker replied distractedly. "494 and 493 were the only ones with that same genetic sequence. He was," Lydecker began, but Zack cut him off.  
  
"That doesn't matter. You're coming to Seattle, no questions asked. Hey, you might be somewhat valuable to them. I don't know. All I do know is that we can't afford to have you going off and associating with the enemy. If you're just another disposable Ordinary, well, I think you can guess what'll come of that. So I suggest you come along, and keep quiet, while you think of some impressive information to divulge."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Alec found the Fulton Building with little trouble; he'd been there once or twice before. The nearby area was pretty much deserted, besides the small group of Xs that were housed a few streets down. It was getting late anyway. The Xs down this way were young, they'd all be out prowling the night at this time.  
  
Alec opened the rusted door of the building slowly, looking around as he walked in. He climbed the old staircase gradually, as if frightened they might cave in. However, he made it safely to the third floor. He walked almost apprehensively to the second door on the right, digging the keys out of his pocket. He jammed one of the identical keys into the lock and turned. He pulled the key back out and reached out to turn the handle. He paused briefly, the pushed the door open.  
  
He took in everything about the room, which had obviously been fixed up recently. He grinned slightly at the thought of Luke, Dix, and Mole cleaning the small room. It had undoubtedly been a studio at one time; the design was definitely meant to cater to dynamics. But none of that could surpass what sat in the middle of the room: a very expensive looking baby grand. It had to be years old, but it didn't look it. And besides, a piano was a piano.  
  
Alec sat down on the black bench, running his fingers lightly over the cold, smooth keys. They brought back so many memories, both good and bad. He positioned his finger appropriately and began to play.  
  
Beethoven's Sonata #14 in C# Minor, Op. 27, No. 2. Moonlight Sonata. Rachel had always loved it when he'd played it. It was the first one he'd learned for the mission, and one of his personal favorites. All twenty four pages of it.  
  
He knew the music like the back of his hand, and it was obvious that the talent came naturally to him, even more so than any other son or daughter of Manticore. He finished the piece in good time, savoring the beauty of the composition for as long as possible. He'd always had a certain appreciation for music. When he'd completed the sonata, he decided to play the only other appropriate piece that came to mind.  
  
The only appropriate piece to ever play on a piano.  
  
The only appropriate piece to tear his heart to shreds.  
  
Frederic Chopin's Etude Op. 10, No. 3.  
  
He played so gracefully, his fingers seemed to glide across the keys as the music flowed beautifully through the room. But to Alec, there was no music. Just the pain cutting through him, the memories. And the pain.  
  
After he'd finished the piece, he stood and knelt next to the bench he'd previously been sitting on. There had to be something in there. Something to distract him from his thoughts. He opened the small hinged lid, revealing multiple books of music, all from before the Pulse. He grabbed one of the first books that he found. 'Famous Ballads of the Century'. Good enough. He turned to the first page of printed music and read the title.  
  
  
  
Aerosmith. One of those pre-Pulse rock bands that had just stuck around forever. Alec had heard some of their tracks on his missions, and quite a bit more of them after Manticore had gone down. When he'd been learning piano back before the Berrisford Mission, his superiors wanted his teaching to be diverse. He remembered the one that one of the supervisors had suggested. It was one of Aerosmith's love songs, from a movie, if Alec's memory served him correctly. I Don't Want To Miss A Thing. He placed his fingers accordingly and began to play.  
  
After finishing the older ballad, he paused briefly, staring at the keys. Memories flooded his mind, but he shook his violently to free himself from their murderous holds. He quickly turned the page of the thick piano book to the next song.  
  
Lifehouse. What kind of name is that? It wasn't even a word, he was sure of that. But as he began to play the song printed in the volume in front of him, he began to think that even if they couldn't name themselves something that actually had a logical meaning, they could at least put together a decent love song. This piece 'Breathing' was pretty good. But these decent love songs were starting to get to Alec. The memories of his past were beginning to blur his thoughts. He considered looking for a different genre of music to play, but instead violently batted at the pages of the book, revealing the next song.  
  
Interesting. It was a Japanese song, he'd learned the language back at Manticore, and you didn't see much of them in the States anymore. Suteki Da Ne. Again, Alec could swear it was featured in a movie, or a video game, or something. He played it with just as much proficiency as the previous songs, though being as it was written at a slower tempo, and with more classical dynamics, it seemed somewhat longer than some of the other 'ballads.' He flipped the page once again.  
  
Now this was old, but no less appealing. The Beetles, to be exact. Let It Be. It was more of an upbeat sort of song, though too slow for his liking. So, he took the liberty of speeding it up a few notches. It ended up sounded much more jazz like than the original, but still a true work of genius. It wasn't long before he'd ended his modified version of the traditional work. He turned the page once again.  
  
Hmm. Linkin Park. An alternative rock band of sorts, if he wasn't mistaken. He'd actually benefited from some of their insightful music. But this was one he hadn't heard before. My December. Interesting choice of title. But fitting, Alec thought as he scanned the lyrics printed below the varying notes. Very Fitting. And so, he decided that it was worth his time to play. It was a slow, almost melancholy piece; the kind that was so simply haunting that it sent chills up your spine, though Alec, being trained and bred to control his actions, was able to stop such a motion. The song surely live up to its name, it was so cold, so possessive, though meaningful. And easy to relate to. But it wasn't long before Alec found himself looking at the next piece in the book.  
  
Goo Goo Dolls. Iris. It was a vague title, but Alec wasn't distracted enough not to catch the underlying meaning. And he liked that element of vagueness. And the name of the group was amusing enough. He had time to waste. No one was around. No would hear little old Alec playing him piano long into the night. Why not play a few more? And so, he played through the song.  
  
'One last song,' he thought to himself, looking out the window at the continuously darkening sky. He didn't want to push his luck in discretion too far. So he flipped one last page for the night, to a very fitting title.  
  
Alec grinned upon scanning the piece. Journey. One of those classic rock bands. Don't Stop Believing. A sort of symbolic song he supposed, for their situation. Corny, yeah, but still significant. He knew the song; he'd swiped a few CDs on one of his early heists after the destruction of Manticore, Journey's Escape having been one of them. As he began to play, he unconsciously started to sing along.  
  
  
  
Just a small town girl, Livin' in a lonely world  
  
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere  
  
Just a city boy, Born and raised in south Detroit  
  
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere A singer in a smokey room  
  
A smell of wine and cheap perfume  
  
For a smile they can share the night  
  
It goes on and on and on and on  
  
  
  
Strangers waiting, Up and down the boulevard  
  
Their shadows searching in the night  
  
Streetlights, people, Living just to find emotion  
  
Hiding, somewhere in the night  
  
  
  
Working hard to get my fill,  
  
Everybody wants a thrill  
  
Payin' anything to roll the dice,  
  
Just one more time  
  
Some will win, some will lose  
  
Some were born to sing the blues  
  
Oh, the movie never ends  
  
It goes on and on and on and on  
  
  
  
Strangers waiting, Up and down the boulevard  
  
Their shadows searching in the night  
  
Streetlights, people, Living just to find emotion  
  
Hiding, somewhere in the night  
  
  
  
Don't stop believin'  
  
Hold on to the feelin'  
  
Streetlights, people  
  
  
  
Don't stop believin'  
  
Hold on  
  
Streetlights, people  
  
  
  
Don't stop believin'  
  
Hold on to the feelin'  
  
Streetlights, people  
  
  
  
He smiled slightly as he finished, somewhat satisfied that he was so well versed in music that he knew every word to such a classic song. And that, in his opinion, he sounded half-ways decent in singing it.  
  
He reached up to close the book in front of him and return it to its place when he was caught off guard by a barely audible whisper coming from behind him.  
  
  
  
"Journey, right? Nice choice."  
  
  
  
A/N: Yes, I realize the conversation between Alec and Mole was somewhat scripted, and I apologize. If you have any ideas on how I could make it more natural, please feel free to let me know what you're thinking. Also, yes, the way I write the characters differ from other authors, and I hope this doesn't confuse you. It's just the way that I picture them, and I also believe that it's enjoyable to read a new take on things once in a while.  
  
Anyway, all of the songs featured in this chapter in the piano scene were ideas from my friends and also a few authors on here. If you get confused by some of the references here, I apologize. So here we go:  
  
Beethoven's Sonata #14 in C# Minor, Op. 27, No. 2. Moonlight Sonata was for Emily and Elizabeth (The Twins); you are too cool. Thank you for letting me borrow the piano music until I got my own copy, you guys are great!  
  
Frederic Chopin's Etude Op. 10, No. 3. Was based from the music from Berrisford Agenda, and also one of my new pieces for piano, so that's the reasoning for that.  
  
Aerosmith's I Don't Want To Miss A Thing was for Samantha and Shannon, my two wonderful cousins, who went crazy for that song along with me when the movie Armageddon came out. Love Ya!  
  
Lifehouse's Breathing was for all of my 'guy' friends, especially 'Boeschy', many of whom I've danced with to this song. You're all great!  
  
The Japanese 'Suteki Da Ne' was for Caralyn, Vinny, Dan, and Nathan. You asked, I complied. I hope this is a decent fix for your Anime Obsession, which I still don't understand! LOL! And this is from Final Fantasy X, the PlayStation 2 Video Game, if you're wondering.  
  
The Beetles' Let It Be was, in short, for me. It was my first concert piano solo piece, and I'd like to thank all of my friends and family who put up with listening to it for so long! LOL! Heck, even those of you who had no clue about The Beetles' leaned the whole song!  
  
Linkin Park's My December was for Amanda. Eminem really never wrote an appropriate love song, so this will have to be acceptable! LOL!  
  
Goo Goo Doll's Iris was Brin's idea; thank you so much! BTW, great new chapter; if you haven't read her stuff, go read! It's awesome!  
  
And Journey's Don't Stop Believing was 1.) for Emily, cause she actually knew it! 2.) because it's one of my favorite 'classic', if you want to call it that, rock song, and 3.) because I was watching the Wedding Singer while I was writing.  
  
Ok, done now.  
  
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!  
  
-AntipodeanOpaleye 


	5. Emotional

Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy  
  
By AntipodeanOpaleye  
  
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Author's Note: Oh my goodness! I've made it to Chapter Five! I apologize for the delay, I got sick, and then I had some other things to take care of. But anyway, I'm back now. Again, I want to thank Johan for looking over this chapter before it was posted, and giving me the suggestions and motivation I needed to get to work on this. Thank You For All Of Your Help!!! Also, to all of my reviewers, you are pretty much the only reason this went farther than another abandoned one chapter piece. You definitely make me a more motivated writer. You are all so awesome!  
  
Anyway, hope you like it!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Five: Emotional  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Max," he breathed, not having to turn around to identify her voice. Hell, everything about the figure standing behind him was familiar enough that he didn't have to second guess who it was. "Yeah, it was Journey." He slowly turned to face her. He was surprised to find that she was staring at the smooth floor, hugging herself tightly. He moved slowly over to her.  
  
"That was nice," she whispered to the floor.  
  
"Uhh, thanks," he muttered, beginning his own conversation with the tile he was standing on.  
  
"You're a decent singer, too," Max said slowly, embarrassment of a sort lacing her voice.  
  
Alec laughed almost nervously. "I didn't come here to sing. I guess I got, well, carried away."  
  
Max smiled slightly. "I guess."  
  
An awkward silence settled on the two of them, and it was obvious that they were both affected by it. Max began swirling her foot childishly, and Alec shifted sporadically from one foot the other.  
  
"Are you gonna play some more?" Max asked tentatively, finally raising her eyes from the floor. Alec followed suit, eyeing her questioningly in response.  
  
"Probably not," he answered quietly, tilting his head slightly, evaluating her. "Why?"  
  
"I guess I was thinking about sticking around if you were gonna play some more," Max spoke casually, though the speed of her words betrayed her uneasiness.  
  
"Oh you were, were you?" Alec asked somewhat sarcastically. "And what if I don't play for an audience?"  
  
Max didn't say a word, but shoved him lightly in response to his comment. Alec quickly searched her face for a smile, but there wasn't one.  
  
Alec sighed. "Got any requests?" he asked, conforming to playing a few more songs. He walked over to the piano bench, expecting Max to follow him but she simply remained standing where she was, staring at the floor. Alec moved over to her once again, closing the gap between them even more effectively than he had before. He placed his hand under her chin and tilted her head upward to face him.  
  
"Max," he whispered, his eyes locked with hers, which were more melancholy than he'd ever seen them. Except perhaps the night she'd told him about Ben.  
  
"Max, what is it," he said in a low, gentle, but firm voice. She opened her mouth slightly as if to answer him, but nothing came out. Alec knew that something of importance was seriously bothering her when he saw a single tear make its way down her cheek.  
  
"What's wrong, Max?" he asked again, more demanding this time. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.  
  
"Everything's wrong, Alec," she whispered her voice shaky. "I'm not cut out for this. I can't save these people from the inevitable. I can't save them from the world, Alec. I just can't." In a second, she buried her head into Alec's chest, her slow tears turning to racking sobs. And Alec held her small, shaking, figure tightly as she cried. After she regained her composure, she lifted her head to meet Alec's gaze.  
  
"I don't think I can do this," she said unevenly, her eyes lost and confused.  
  
"Of course you can," Alec said reassuringly.  
  
"Not like this Alec," she said dejectedly. And then, more softly, "Not alone."  
  
"You're not alone, Maxie," he said.  
  
"I feel alone," Max said as she clung to Alec, sobbing once more. "I feel so alone."  
  
"It's okay, Maxie. It's okay," he said softly, stroking her hair. He led her to the small off-white sofa in the corner, and they sat down on it, side by side. Max proceeded to sob into the night, crying herself to sleep. And Alec remained there at her side, her small head resting peacefully on his lap.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Alec continued to stare at Max's sleeping figure for what seemed like hours. After consulting his watch, he realized it was already 1:17 AM. He sighed slightly. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in days. He tilted his head back and rested it casually against the top of the sofa.  
  
He was somewhat hurt that Max felt so alone when he'd done everything he could think of to help her, to make her responsibilities less burdening. But he couldn't blame her. He felt alone, and he bet that most people did. Wasn't she entitled to that same privilege? Or that same curse, depending on how you looked at it.  
  
He was still surprised that she'd actually shown any type of emotion, and then that she'd shown in it front of him, of all people. Not that he regretted her doing so; he was more than willing to lend a shoulder for her to cry on. He only wished he could trust himself enough to allow her to return the favor. But he wouldn't, he was too proud. He was.  
  
Shaken from his thought by a noise outside.  
  
The Fulton Building was near the perimeter of TC, and Alec could tell that the voices were coming from beyond Terminal City limits.  
  
He slowly rose from the sofa, gently laying Max's head on the cushion underneath. He quickly made his way to the window on the other side of the room, looking out to get a better look at the intruders.  
  
There was a pair; a male and a female. Alec couldn't tell if they were transgenics, but if they were, they had to be pretty dense. They were displaying no regard for circumspect whatsoever, and it bothered Alec that there were such flagrant transgenics, or humans, for that matter, roaming around. It was that fact the motivated Alec to 'teach' these two a lesson in discretion.  
  
There was a small balcony outside the window, which Alec perched himself on. He watched the pair intently as he leaped silently from the descending balconies on each of the lower floors. Near the ground, he vaulted the fence dividing TC from the rest of the world and reached the alleyway he'd aimed for.  
  
Alec now knew the two people were transgenics, due to the fact that they turned at the small sound of his landing, a sound that no Ordinary would have heard. Alec stepped quickly into the shadows of the building, and the pair approaching him continued to walk, obviously searching for an entrance to Terminal City. Alec decided to listen in on their conversation for a few moments before closing in.  
  
"I can't believe I let you lead us here!" the female hissed at the male.  
  
"You wouldn't have done any better a job!" the male shot back at her.  
  
"The hell I wouldn't have," the female muttered. "All the shit we went through? The walking, the Sector Cops, the mobs, I couldn't have avoided that? My ass."  
  
"Let's just get in here so that we can find them," the man told her dejectedly.  
  
It was at this point that Alec made his move.  
  
He took them by surprise, grabbing them both forcefully from behind, and flipping them to on their backs, forcing them to the ground. They struggled, but Alec maintained the upper hand. He moved between them, keeping each of them in a loose, but threatening stranglehold.  
  
"Well, well, well," he said amusedly, his face still hidden in the shadows cast by the many structures in the alley. "What do we have here? A couple of very ignorant transgenics, from the looks of it. You should watch yourselves a little more carefully, you know. This isn't exactly a transgenic friendly neighborhood, you know. Not really a safe place to be acting so oblivious. Anyone could have head you." He paused, studying the pair. "What are you? X5?"  
  
"What's it to you?" The female said in a dangerous undertone.  
  
"A lot more than you might think," Alec said sarcastically. "From what I hear, you're looking for a way in? To find someone?"  
  
The male spoke this time. "Something like that."  
  
"Why do you wanna know?" the female hissed.  
  
"Maybe I can help you out," Alec replied quickly, wanting to know what they were up to. "Who ya lookin' for?"  
  
"Why should we tell you?" the man snapped back. "We don't even know who you are. How can we trust you?"  
  
Alec released his hold on the two and stood. The pair straightened up as well, rotating their somewhat sore necks. Alec stepped out of the shadows towards the couple. He was taken aback when they both gasped upon seeing him.  
  
"Ben?" the man asked, disbelieving.  
  
"It that you?" the woman asked him.  
  
"You're Max's siblings," Alec deduced aloud, not answering either of the questions directed towards him.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" the man asked dangerously.  
  
"I would be Alec. Ben's identical twin. And you are?"  
  
"Krit," the man stepped forward, offering his hand, which Alec shook firmly.  
  
"Syl," the woman said as she came towards Alec and did the same.  
  
"So I was right in saying you were in Max's unit?"  
  
"Yeah," Krit said skeptically. "How would you know?"  
  
"You thought I was Ben," Alec said simply. "So did Max."  
  
"Max's dead." Syl said, venom lacing her voice.  
  
"Max? Dead? Unlikely. Dead to the world, maybe. I didn't think she could sleep so soundly, what with that shark DNA. I just left her to come and see what was going on out here."  
  
"Max died at Manticore, a year ago," Krit said regretfully.  
  
"Wait just a minute. We can't be talking about the same Max. We're talking Max, X5-452, girl power guru, bike messenger, cat burglar Max, right?"  
  
"Yeah, but you forgot dead," Syl said bitterly.  
  
Alec stared at them, dumbfounded. "You've got to be kidding me. Look, I'll show her to ya. But I wouldn't recommend a big family reunion tonight, she's a bit, out of sorts, so to speak. Wait for tomorrow. Work for you?"  
  
"Sure, where is she?" Krit asked, still not believing Alec's claim.  
  
"You up for some climbing?" Alec asked with a grin.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"All right, this is it," Alec whispered as he reached the balcony. "Just stay quiet, take a look, and then I'll get you two a place to stay for tonight. We can get you some nicer accommodations in the morning."  
  
"Sure, thanks," Syl said distractedly, obviously curious to see who Alec claimed was her sister.  
  
Alec climbed through first, opening the window wider so that it would be easier for the others to get in. He silently walked to the sofa where Max was still sleeping. He smiled at the content look on her face.  
  
Krit and Syl followed closely, staring unblinkingly at their obviously living sister. It was obvious she'd changed; she looked so grown up since the last time they'd seen her. Syl knelt down next to her, looking her over, as if confirming that she was the real thing, 100% authentic Max. She smiled at Max's sleeping figure, tears streaming slowly down her cheeks as she lightly grabbed her sister's hand.  
  
"Welcome back, Max," she whispered as she stood, moving aside for Krit to see.  
  
Krit knelt as Syl did, smiling at his sister. He gently brushed a stray piece of her long, dark hair off her face, a single tear running down his left cheek.  
  
"We missed you, Maxie," he said softly as he stood and joined Syl. They walked toward the door, Alec following them.  
  
"That room down there should have a bed," Alec whispered, pointing to a door about three down from the one he was standing by. "You got a cell?" he asked Krit.  
  
"Yeah," Krit replied, giving Alec his phone.  
  
"Go down those stairs," Alec pointed to the flight at the end of the hall, "until you reach ground level. Wait outside the building and call this number," Alec said as he programmed the number that connected to the Command Area. "Ask for Mole or Joshua to come to The Fulton Building and show you where you need to go and where you can stay. Tell 'em that it's for Alec. Then, hang around Command for awhile until we get there."  
  
"Thanks," Krit said as Alec returned the phone.  
  
"No problem," Alec said as the walked into their room and he returned to the studio.  
  
Alec walked back over to Max, sitting on the floor next to the sofa. He began to stroke her hair again, watching her intently. He smiled at her sleeping figure once again, as he whispered softly in her ear.  
  
"You're not alone Maxie. I'm here."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Krit was standing outside the Fulton building early the next morning. He yawned as he pulled the cell phone out of his jacket. Syl, being the nagging, talkative woman she was, had kept him up half the night with conversation. He supposed that was one reason he loved her; she was so vocal. He smiled at the thought.  
  
Krit pressed the speed dial that Alec had indicated the evening before, waiting for someone to pick up on the other end.  
  
"Uh, hello?" a voice said on the other line.  
  
"Uh, yeah," Krit said, "I'm looking for Mole or Joshua."  
  
"Oh, yeah," the person on the other end cut him off. "Alec told us about you. Krit, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Krit said, relieved that he didn't have to explain himself any more.  
  
"Yeah, Mole will be there in a few minutes, he's out that way. Fulton Building, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Krit spoke into the cell.  
  
"He'll be there soon," the voice said before hanging up.  
  
Krit folded the phone and placed it back into his pocket.  
  
"Miss me?"" Syl whispered in his ear, her arms snaking around his waist.  
  
"Of course," Krit answered slyly.  
  
"Are they coming?" she asked him.  
  
"Yeah. Someone named Mole."  
  
"Great name," Syl replied with distaste.  
  
Krit laughed softly. "That it is."  
  
"So," Syl said, "What do you think of all this?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'What do I think about all this?'" Krit asked.  
  
"You know. Everything. Max."  
  
"Max," Krit said, as though the though of his supposedly dead sister being alive was beyond surreal. He wanted so badly to believe he'd truly seen her the night before. "Do you think it was really her?"  
  
"I don't know. But I mean, think about it. Who else could it have been? And what reason would that guy have had to lie about her?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I guess we'll have to wait a few hours to figure it out."  
  
"You don't so sound happy that she might be alive, you know." Syl chided.  
  
"Neither do you," Krit shot back. "It's just, you know how it was right after her and Zack were," he didn't have to finish for Syl to get the picture. Both of them had fallen apart after the attack on the DNA Lab. "I would give anything to have them back. It's just that, you know, I don't want to get too psyched about it, just in case it's not for real."  
  
"I know how you feel," Syl said, her voice faraway. She'd taken it just as hard as Krit had, and felt the same way about the current situation.  
  
"Well I don't," a rough voice said from behind them. "You Krit and Syl?"  
  
"Yeah," Krit answered the voice, though he still couldn't see whom it belonged to. "You Mole?"  
  
Mole stepped out. "Yeah."  
  
Krit and Syl were surprised by the creature's appearance, to say the least, though they hid it well. The anomaly's lizard-like semblance was less than appealing. His rifle was hanging casually over his shoulder, as casually as a firearm could hang, and he was chewing on a cigar distractedly.  
  
"So, Alec said you two'll be wantin' to get a place to stay, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Syl answered as she and Krit began to follow the fast-paced Lizard Man away from the Fulton Building.  
  
"Together?"  
  
"Uh, yeah," Krit replied.  
  
"There's a nice place a few blocks from here that should work for ya. As nice as Terminal City will allow it's citizens, that is. Of course, if you're in with Alec, you could probably take advantage of some of the more luxurious aspects offered to the 'leaders.' But this place is mostly Xs. Some transhmans and an anomaly or two. You should blend pretty well."  
  
"Uh, thanks," Krit muttered.  
  
"So, what's you're deal?" Mole asked off-handedly. Almost everyone in TC asked the new arrivals this.  
  
"Huh?" Syl asked, obviously confused.  
  
Mole turned around to face the pair. "You're deal. You're designation. You're Manticore history. You're life on the outside. Why you came here."  
  
"Why the hell would we be telling you?" Syl retorted evilly.  
  
Mole stopped in his tracks and turned, eyeing her maliciously. "You're a real piece of work, ya know that?" he spat. "I'm gonna need some information, missy. From you and your boy here. Designation and what you specialized in back at Manticore."  
  
Syl sighed, obviously pissed off. "X5-701," she barked at the lizard man, but paused. What the hell was 'what you specialized in back at Manticore?' Obviously something that had gone down after the escape. Not wanting to admit that she had no clue what to say, she took a shot. "Extended Missions."  
  
"X5-471." Krit found himself in the same predicament. Not knowing what to say, he took a wild guess. "Firearms."  
  
Mole looked at them both strangely. "You're both '09 escapees aren't you?" he said in an odd voice.  
  
"What would you know about it?" Syl shot back dangerously.  
  
"Your specialties are all wrong, you know. You could specialize in Solo Missions, Away Missions and Deep Cover Missions; there was no such thing as an Extended Mission. As for Firearms, try Weaponry. You had to have some major skill for that one. It was a whole hell of a lot more than pulling a few triggers."  
  
"How the hell would you know? You're an anomaly." Syl retorted with rage. She wasn't growing very fond of being insulted by Reptile Boy. Though she later realized it had been a mistake to say anything.  
  
"What the hell is it with you Xs?" Mole hissed, grabbing Syl by the collar and lifting her slightly off the ground. "You and you're fucking egos, strutting around like you think you own the damn place! We knew what the hell was going on you know! We we're not completely ignorant, you know!"  
  
Krit moved to help his girlfriend, but was instead lifted parallel to her by Moles other hand.  
  
"Especially you '09 escapees!" he spat, disgust lacing his voice. "Think you're better than the rest of us, think you're so great. You think you're fucking human, just because you lived in the real world for ten years. Think your stronger, think you're so wonderfully trained because you stayed under the radar for a decade. Think again! You were too weak to stay. You wouldn't have survived what came next, anyway! You thought you had it rough? Go ask someone who was there, who lived it. Ask the Xs, they were effected more than we were. Ask an X5, they were restrained even more. Ask the twins, they were put through torture, thing that no one should live through. Few of them did, actually. Ask someone who went through hell and survived it. Someone who came out stronger afterwards and has moved past it. Better, yet, ask Alec."  
  
With that, Mole dropped the pair, pointing to a large building to the left.  
  
"You'll stay there," Mole instructed, his voice dripping with malice. "Fourth Floor, Seventh Door on the left. Command's just that way," he pointed to the right. "You can't miss it."  
  
And then, he stalked away, leaving Krit and Syl to ponder what had just occurred.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Zane," Jondy whined to Zane, both of whom were perched on the roof of a large building overlooking Terminal City. "We'll never get in! There're people everywhere!"  
  
"I realize that," Zane said in a distant voice, deeply immersed in thought. "And we can't risk waiting until nightfall. Not that it'll do any good to wait, anyway."  
  
"So," Jondy prodded. "What are you going to do?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Zane replied calmly. "It's not as if we can just waltz right in," he paused, "unless." Zane smiled slyly and sprang up. "Jondy? You still, umm, enjoy causing trouble?"  
  
Jondy grinned. "Zane, that's something you never grow out of."  
  
"Well, then we really only have one option."  
  
"And that would be?" Jondy urged.  
  
"We'll just need to take their minds off of things for a few minutes. And we'll not only help ourselves, but help any other transgenics interested in getting into TC this lovely morning. Probably even all day, if it works out right."  
  
"And how, oh intelligent one, are we planning on doing this?"  
  
Zane grinned again. "We'll create some, uhh, complications."  
  
Jondy smiled in response. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"  
  
Zane nodded. "Let's do it."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Alec woke suddenly, unsure of why. He looked at his watch. Quarter to seven. He rolled his eyes and straightened from his position on the floor next to the sofa where he'd fallen asleep the night before. He looked at Max, who was still sleeping soundly, and lost all thoughts of waking her. She looked so sweet lying there. Peaceful, you could say. Almost happy.  
  
Smiling slightly as he watched, his eyes wandered to the corner of the room and the large pile of folders that lay there, forgotten in the events of the previous night. Taking one last glance at Max, he walked over and picked the small stack up, shuffling them distractedly as he made his way over t the piano bench.  
  
Sitting on the bench and leaning on the closed piano, he opened the top folder, scanning the information enclosed.  
  
  
  
Series X5- Commanding Officer, Male  
  
330417291599  
  
X5-599  
  
Alias- Zack  
  
-Tends to display protective nature among the members of his unit  
  
-Escaped along with 12 unit members in the winter of 2009  
  
-Initial Escape- Futile  
  
-Recaptured  
  
-Secondary Escape- Successful  
  
-Evaded Recapture until December, 2019  
  
- Leaded the liberation of X5-734 from Fort Xavier with the assistance of X5-452  
  
- Recaptured in December, 2019 for confessing to the murder of Dan Vogelsang  
  
Escaped February, 2020 with the assistance of X5-425  
  
Attempted liberation of X5-656 with the assistance of X5-452- Futile  
  
Attack on the Gillette Facility DNA Database with the assistance of X5-452, X5-471, and X5-701.  
  
After recapture, subject was enrolled in experimental uses of cybernetics and biosynthetic replacement of damaged body systems.  
  
  
  
Training Record  
  
Novice Training: Complete  
  
Intermediate Training: Complete  
  
Advanced Training: Incomplete  
  
Mastery Training: N/A  
  
  
  
Assassination Log:  
  
N/A  
  
Note: Successful Escapee of '09  
  
  
  
Following the written forms were pages of visual documentation of Zack's stays at Manticore. The files were obviously from Seattle, their attempt at piecing together the escapees' pasts. Closing the folder gently and moving it to the bottom of the stack, he opened a much larger folder.  
  
  
  
Series X5- Male  
  
332680074205  
  
X5-205  
  
Alias- Zane  
  
  
  
-Escaped along with 12 unit members in the winter of 2009  
  
-Evaded Recapture  
  
  
  
Training Record  
  
Novice Training: Complete  
  
Intermediate Training: Complete  
  
Advanced Training: Incomplete  
  
Mastery Training: N/A  
  
  
  
Assassination Log:  
  
N/A  
  
Note: Successful Escapee of '09  
  
  
  
'Short and Sweet,' Alec thought as he flipped past the photo documentary to the next subject.  
  
  
  
Series X5- Female  
  
332340090210  
  
X5-210  
  
Alias- Jondy  
  
  
  
-Escaped along with 12 unit members in the winter of 2009  
  
-Evaded Recapture  
  
  
  
Training Record  
  
Novice Training: Complete  
  
Intermediate Training: Incomplete  
  
Advanced Training: N/A  
  
Mastery Training: N/A  
  
  
  
Assassination Log:  
  
N/A  
  
Note: Successful Escapee of '09  
  
  
  
And so Alec flipped through the transcripts, each varying only slightly in status and training, mostly with X5-656, or Tinga. After reading each document, he moved on to the next folder, clearly marked 'X5-452.'  
  
Alec opened the folder, and was quite surprised to find it empty. The only information inside was written on crumpled, ripped pieces of paper, each with a similar message.  
  
DISK A452, REN9, TR95, SAN6  
  
DNA WORK UP- DISK 222M  
  
DNA DATA- DISK 920P  
  
GENETIC CODING- DISK 101Y  
  
PASSWORD- ALEXANDER V. SANDEMAN III  
  
  
  
'Now that's interesting,' Alec thought. Most of the writing looked feminine, curly and elegant, most likely Renfro's. But the Password was written in bold, block lettering, most likely a man's. Alec shrugged, shuffling the folder to the back and moving to open the next.  
  
"Hey," Max whispered from the sofa, her big brown eyes fully awake.  
  
"Hey yourself," Alec replied, smiling at her and secretly slipping the folders into the piano bench and grabbing a piece of music.  
  
"Whatcha doin?" she asked him almost playfully. She propped herself up on the armrest to look at him.  
  
"Oh, just looking at some music," he said, waving the sheet music in the air.  
  
Max nodded. She got up from the sofa a stretched. "I guess we'd better go," Max stated.  
  
Alec glanced at his watch. "Yeah, it's already seven."  
  
Max yawned as Alec walked toward her, grabbing his leather jacket and slipping it on. He began to walk out the door, but Max stopped him.  
  
"Look," she said pointedly. "I just wanted to say that I really appreciate what you did for me last night. I needed it. So, thank you."  
  
Alec stared at her for a moment, taking in what she'd said, and finally replied. "Anytime Maxie." And then he remembered.  
  
"Maxie, you wanna wait here for a second?" he asked innocently.  
  
"Why?" Max inquired suspiciously.  
  
"You had some visitors last night," Alec stated simply. "I figured you should see 'em this morning, so, I thought I'd go get 'em."  
  
Max tried to force her way past him, but he blocked her. "Come on Maxie, trust me. You'll probably want a private meeting. I would."  
  
Max looked torn, but finally sighed in resignation. "Fine. Bring 'em up."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Officer," Zane approached the Sector Police Officer quickly. "Officer, there's a situation."  
  
"Who the hell are you?" The officer asked skeptically.  
  
"Just a concerned citizen who wasn't these freaks of nature off the streets. But you should really call back the rioters, sir. There is a huge group of transgenics trying to get to Terminal City just South of Seattle. My friend saw 'em, sir, and he heard 'em talking. They might be coming soon. Called me, said he was too scared to call the police himself, got into a bit of a jam with the authorities a while back. But seriously, sir. You wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, now, would you?"  
  
The officer looked interested. "South of Seattle, eh?"  
  
"That's right, sir," Zane replied almost solemnly.  
  
The man spoke into his intercom. "All units to base, we have a situation." He turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, "Thanks kid."  
  
"No problem, sir," Zane called back, smiling slyly at the officer's back.  
  
Gullible Jackass.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Alec walked into Command, scanning the area for Krit and Syl. He found them in a corner, sitting on the floor, talking. He made his way over to them quickly.  
  
"Morning," he greeted them simply. "You ready?"  
  
Krit eyed him mistrustfully. "If it's not her, you'll have hell to pay."  
  
"You won't know what hit you," Syl added dangerously.  
  
"Still don't believe me? Shit, you saw her yourself. I mean, isn't that enough proof?" Seeing that he hadn't convinced them, Alec threw his hands up in resignation. "Whatever, just come on. Max's waiting, and she isn't exactly a patient person."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Jondy walked up to the middle-aged man that appeared to be leading the Vigilantes, tapping his shoulder lightly to get his attention. He looked annoyed at being interrupted, but smiled sweetly at the attractive woman.  
  
"What can I do for you sweetheart?" he asked distractedly, his gaze wandering unmistakably to Jondy's chest.  
  
Fighting the urge to deck the pervert, Jondy smiled sweetly.  
  
"It looks like you've got quite a loyal crowd here," she said in an airy, sweet, singsong voice.  
  
"That's right little lady. We're just trying to keep young gems like yourself safe from these mutant freaks."  
  
Jondy forced herself to smile. "I expected you'd be gone by now."  
  
The man gave her a strange look. "Why is that, my dear?"  
  
"Didn't you hear?" Jondy asked in mock shock. "There are supposedly some transgenics on the loose north of here, making there way into the city. Sector Cops don't know yet. Thought you might like to check it out, you being such a brave leader and all that."  
  
The man's eyes lit up strangely. "North of here? Is that all you know, princess?"  
  
Jondy forced herself to appear regretful. "I'm sorry. That's it," she replied softly, her eyes widening and lips pouting apologetically.  
  
The man looked at her strangely. "I'll take your word for it honey," he said distractedly, "but you should probably get out of here. Don't know what these people will do to a poor youngin' like yourself when they get anxious."  
  
Jondy smiled again and nodded, walking away with a deceitful grin.  
  
Naïve Dumbass.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Syl and Krit lagged behind Alec the entire walk toward the Fulton Building. Alec was less then pleased, but he wasn't going to start anything with Max's lovely siblings. He really wasn't in any mood to purposefully create a bad impression.  
  
"Are we almost there?" Syl asked.  
  
"Yeah," Alec called over his shoulder. "Next building, in fact."  
  
They climbed the stairs of the building, reaching the large metal door that led to the corridor that Alec had left Max in.  
  
"Wait here just a second," Alec stalled. "I should go get her."  
  
Alec slipped through the door before either could object. Max was leaning against the wall, her back to him, tapping her foot impatiently.  
  
Alec slipped behind her and slid his arms onto her shoulders. She jumped and turned to him quickly.  
  
"What the hell was that for," she hissed, trying to sound angry but was obviously more shaken than anything.  
  
"Nothing, Maxie. Chill."  
  
"Uh huh." She paused, waiting. When he simply continued to look at her, she spoke again. "Well?" Max asked expectantly.  
  
"Are you ready?" Alec asked quietly.  
  
Max stared at him strangely. "Yeah," she answered skeptically.  
  
"All right guys," he raised his voice a bit. "Come on in."  
  
Krit and Syl walked through the door quickly, as if they'd been debating on whether or not to simply burst in.  
  
Max turned to them as soon as she heard the door open once again. It only took her a few seconds to register the faces.  
  
"Syl? Krit?" she whispered breathlessly.  
  
"Max?" Krit asked, disbelieving.  
  
In an instant, Max was in her brother's arms, pulling her sister along with her, and holding on for dear life. "Oh my God," she cried into his shoulder. "I can't believe it's you."  
  
Alec could tell he had no place there, among a family in which he had no part, and so he slipped silently past the trio and moved to the door. He took one last look at the three of them. So close to one another. As much as it bothered him to feel it, he would've liked to have had something like that with someone. He continued to stare at them lost in his thoughts, until something caught his attention.  
  
Max looked up at him, her eyes red, a small smile resting on her lips. She looked meaningfully at Alec. "Thank you," she whispered.  
  
Alec smiled and nodded. And with that, he turned at walked out the door.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Maggie," Alec called to the tall, blonde woman walking down the alley. He was in no mood to walk alone at the moment.  
  
She turned quickly and smiled at him. "Alec," she said in her deep, melodious voice, an exotic British accent lacing her voice, still considerably noticeable from her last mission. "What a pleasant surprise."  
  
"Likewise," Alec replied with a sly grin, catching up to her.  
  
"How are you, Alec?" she asked him.  
  
"As well as can be expected," he replied, only half-joking.  
  
Maggie nodded. "I fear we both may be in the same situation."  
  
"Why is that?" Alec asked seriously.  
  
Maggie sighed. "Why is it always, Alec? It seems that fate doesn't deem me fit for romance."  
  
Alec nodded solemnly. Maggie, one of the younger X4s, had been looking for a man ever since she'd arrived at Terminal City. She was one of the only X4s there, and almost all of the X5s were either already paired or had no interest in an X4, even one of Maggie's style, beauty, and grace. Her attempts, however, had been futile, and Alec was completely aware of how self-conscious that made her.  
  
"Don't worry, Maggie," Alec assured her. "You'll find the perfect guy in no time, and when he comes along, he won't be able to resist you. And he won't want to."  
  
Maggie smiled ruefully. "Won't be able to resist me, Alec? If I'm so irresistible, why hasn't a certain attractive X5 I know made his move?" She asked, gesturing toward Alec.  
  
"Uh, well, umm, you know that I don't want to get emotionally involved right now, and well, umm," Alec stuttered uncomfortably.  
  
"Alec," Maggie cut him off, "I was being sarcastic. A rare gift, I can see. Besides, we all know why you haven't advanced on a woman yet."  
  
"Huh?" Alec asked incredulously.  
  
"Haven't you wondered why the women around here aren't throwing themselves at you? They want to, believe me. But they all know you're taken."  
  
"I just thought I'd lost my touch," Alec muttered. "And what do you mean taken?"  
  
"Taken. As in with someone. Emotionally entangled. You and Max."  
  
"Max? As in, the ice woman? Why does everyone think we're together? You'd have to be crazy to try to get close to her."  
  
Maggie giggled. "You two are so blind."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, you two are so blind."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Alec asked, completely confused.  
  
"You'll see it eventually. Once you decide that you'd enjoy seeing the sun again and you resolve to pull your head out of your lovely ass," Maggie added.  
  
Alec looked at her strangely. "Max doesn't want me. We're both happy with the way things are." He knew it was a lie, but wasn't about to admit so.  
  
"Oh really?" Maggie asked. "Neither of you look very happy, or act very happy with the way thing are. But I can understand. You have your reasons."  
  
"Which would be?"  
  
Maggie smiled. "I was sort of hoping you might ask."  
  
"Alec, you're both scared. You're scared of the pain, the heartbreak; you're scared of love. And you both have reason to be. You've both had you're hearts ripped out. But you've got to move past all of that. Move past what's blinding you, what holding you back. The hurt, the suffering, the fear."  
  
"The fear?" Alec asked hoarsely.  
  
"The Fear," Maggie restated confidently. And then she softened. "You can't carry her burden forever, Alec. You have too much to live for."  
  
"So did she," he whispered. "And she is my burden to bear. It's my fault she never had a chance to live."  
  
"Only you can decide that Alec, but she wouldn't have wanted you to waste away." She paused slightly, putting a comforting arm around Alec. "I know you're hurting. But so is Max. You've both been through so much, but you're both so strong, Alec. I know you miss Rachel, and I'm not telling you to forget her. Never forget her. She's a part of you. I'm only asking you if you've ever considered that maybe what happened was, in the end, for the best? And that, even though you cared for her, that it's possible to love again? To care more, to try harder? To feel even more love for someone else?"  
  
Alec looked up at Maggie as a single tear trailed down his cheek.  
  
"You can't change the past, Alec. Let her go."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Maxie, we were so worried," Krit whispered softly in her ear. "We thought you were dead."  
  
"I'm so sorry," Max whispered back, choking back sobs. "I can't believe it's you."  
  
Krit smiled, moving away to looked at his sister as Syl followed suit.  
  
"Maxie, you don't know how much we missed you," Syl whispered.  
  
"I missed you too," Max replied softly.  
  
"I can't believe you're alive, Maxie," Krit added, still in shock.  
  
Max smiled slightly. "Neither can I."  
  
Syl spoke tentatively. "I know this isn't the time for the whole life story, but I gotta ask. What's with wonder boy?"  
  
Max laughed. "Alec's," she paused. "Alec's just Alec. He helped me escape after the attack, and he's been around ever since."  
  
Syl was obviously displeased with that answer, but accepted it for the time being. A serene silence settled on the group, and was only interrupted by the electronic sounds of Max's cell ringing. Max rolled her eyes as she answered the call.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Max," Dix's voice could be heard from the other end.  
  
"Yeah Dix?"  
  
"There's someone looking for you down here."  
  
"Who?" Max asked incredulously.  
  
"Didn't say, just that he was looking for the leader of TC."  
  
"Aiight, I'll be down," she said as she disconnected the call. She turned regretfully to her brother and sister.  
  
"I gotta take care of some things. Do you two have a place to stay?"  
  
"Yeah," Krit replied. "We'll hang out there for a while, I guess. See you later Max."  
  
Max gave each of them a quick hug as they parted ways.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Max walked into a sparsely populated Command Area minutes later, scanning the room for this visitor. It didn't take long to pick out the unfamiliar face, though it seemed somewhat friendly all the same. She walked up to the young man, tapping him on the shoulder.  
  
"You looking for someone?" she asked abruptly.  
  
"Yeah. You," the man addressed her directly.  
  
"So here I am," she said shrugging her shoulders.  
  
"Max?" he asked slowly.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" she turned suspicious instantly.  
  
"An old friend Maxie."  
  
Max studied the face for a few seconds. "Zane?"  
  
"Nice to see I'm remembered."  
  
"Oh my God!" Max cried as she jumped into his arms. "Zane! It's you!"  
  
Zane smiled. "Been wondering why you're face has been all over the news, Max. Looks like I found out."  
  
She smiled. "Yeah. Got some things working here." She looked at him closely. "You just get in?"  
  
"Yeah, a few minutes ago. Talked to that guy over there," he pointed to Dix. "Real nice."  
  
"Yeah, Dix is amazing. But how'd you get in? You wouldn't have a chance during the day!"  
  
Zane smiled. "We created a few diversions."  
  
"We?"  
  
"Oh, you'll probably want to see her, too." Zane called over to a woman sitting at a table a few feet away, talking to a feline anomaly.  
  
"Yeah?" she asked, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who he was with. "Max?"  
  
"Jondy?" Max asked.  
  
Jondy grinned and threw her arms around her sister.  
  
"It's been too long Maxie," Jondy whispered.  
  
"I agree," Max replied.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Alec," a female voice called him as he made his way farther down the alley.  
  
"Val," he replied with a smile. He looked to her left. "And Nick. How are ya?"  
  
"We're good," Nick answered, taking his girlfriend's hand.  
  
"Good," Alec replied. The X6 couple had been close with Alec ever since he'd started staying in Terminal City.  
  
"So, where are you headed this morning?" Val asked casually.  
  
"Just taking a quick walk," he lied. "Then heading back to Command I guess."  
  
"Well, don't let us stop you," Nick said with a grin. "See ya later."  
  
And with that, the two hurried off, obviously planning on some early morning romance.  
  
Which was perfectly fine with Alec, because he had a date with a few drinks before he could attend to his evening business later that day.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Otto," Ames White greeted the man at the door. He'd been on the phone in his office all morning, and was looking for an excuse to take a break. The monotony of his job was beginning to get to him. "How is the search for the Thermal Imagers going?"  
  
"No well, Sir," Otto said as he steeped into the office and closed the door. "We're beginning to look into other technology that would be set the transgenics apart. But we've only just begun looking into the Black Market. But I'm here for something else, Sir. You asked me to locate a Miranda Lithel for a Special Ops."  
  
"That I did, Otto," White answered with a grin. "Did you come up with anything?"  
  
"Yes sir," Otto replied importantly. "She's here, actually. Told her Agent White was looking for her and said she be happy to meet with you. Very enthusiastic about the whole thing."  
  
"Good. Send her in."  
  
Otto stepped out and only minutes later, a young woman entered the room. She was a tall, slim brunette dressed in black. She closed the door behind her and turned to White.  
  
"Fe'nos tol, Brother White," she whispered timidly.  
  
"Fe'nos tol," White offered her a seat.  
  
"You sent for me?" the woman replied shyly.  
  
"That I did. I've been issued direct orders, the specific wishes of the Conclave. They want one of us inside Terminal City."  
  
"And I'm you're choice?"  
  
White nodded. "You're young, just old enough for an X5. You're not publicly known as a Familiar. You've studied the transgenics; you know what they do and how they act. You haven't made a name for yourself just yet. This would put you in the books."  
  
Miranda's eyes lit up. "I would be honored by the Conclave?"  
  
White nodded with a smile. "But you're not to harm them. You're only to report and maintain your cover. No questions asked."  
  
"Of course," the woman stood.  
  
"We're in agreement, then?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
White shook her hand. "You leave in an hour."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Derek, another scotch, will ya?" Alec asked the female transhuman behind the makeshift bar they'd set up in Terminal City. Alec had been able to supply them with what they needed before the siege, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to help them restock on a regular basis any longer.  
  
"Here ya go Alec. Think you'll be getting us some more anytime soon?"  
  
"I don't know, Der," he told her, taking a drink of the liquid and letting it burn as he swallowed it, swirling the rest around in the glass, watching it, almost mesmerized.  
  
Derek walked away slowly, wondering what had Alec drinking so early in the day, but knowing that it was none of her business to ask.  
  
After finishing his drink, Alec stood from his chair and walked toward the door. On the way, he ran into a woman who was only just entering the bar.  
  
"Sorry," Alec muttered, looking at the girl.  
  
"It's quite all right," said aid shyly. "It was my fault."  
  
"Haven't seen you around here before. You the new girl in town?"  
  
She smiled. "You could say that. My name's Miranda."  
  
"Well, Miranda, I guess I'll see you around."  
  
"I guess so," she smiled as he walked out into the alley.  
  
'See you around is right, Hun,' Alec thought. There was something about that woman that was way off.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"I can't believe you did that!" Max exclaimed when she'd heard what Zane and Jondy had done to get into Terminal City.  
  
"It was a brilliant idea, Maxie, you have to agree." Zane added.  
  
She giggled. "Brilliant, yes. But also immature."  
  
Zane eyed her innocently. "I never claimed to be mature."  
  
She smiled. Syl and Krit were sitting in a chair to her left; Jondy and Zane on the sofa she was sitting on. They'd been sitting there for hours, discussing anything and everything, and sharing their personal life stories. And, amazingly, they hadn't been interrupted. Joshua's doing, most likely. Max glanced at her watch.  
  
"Four O'Clock?" she blurted. "Wonder where Alec is."  
  
Before she could say anything more, a pair of transgenics burst into the room. A female and a male, both making their way across the room, scanning the people as they went.  
  
Max sighed. "Let me check this out." She walked up to the couple and tapped the woman on the back. "Can I help you?"  
  
The long, flowing, black hair should have been a dead giveaway. But it wasn't, and Max was doomed to withstand another shock that day as she met the eyes of yet another one of her siblings.  
  
"Max," Brin whispered breathlessly. She looked like a trapped animal, so lost and cornered.  
  
"Brin?"  
  
She nodded, looking embarrassed.  
  
Max felt uncomfortable, but also relieved for some reason. She felt odd standing there with the sister that had almost killed her, but somehow, felt so happy to see her again. She'd loved Brin, and she wasn't about to desert her now. And so she embraced her, and Max was both shocked and pleased when she returned the hug forcefully.  
  
"God, Max. I'm so sorry. I was all my fault. All my fault." Brin trailed off as she sobbed to her sister.  
  
"It's okay, Brin. It's okay." Max soothed her.  
  
"No Max, it's not. I should've tried harder. Should've done more. Should've fought them."  
  
"You had no choice Brin," Max reasoned.  
  
"No Max. It was all my fault. I almost killed you! And Zack." she paused, trying to compose herself. "If I hadn't tried to stop you, you wouldn't have been in the position you were, You would've been out. You would have lived. And Zack wouldn't have." she was cut off by a highly familiar voice from beside them.  
  
"Zack wouldn't have cracked?" the X5 and former Commanding Officer said casually. "Nah, that was a long time in coming, anyway. I think it only would've postponed the inevitable."  
  
And so, shock and impending explanations aside, they were together again. A family. And though Max was happy, someone was missing. And as usual, she refused to recognize who it truly was.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
It was dark, rainy, and cold, the wind blowing steadily. Typical Seattle weather, and an appropriate fit for Alec's situation that night. He was lad in semi-formal wear, his long business trench billowing around him in the wind. Alec's face was set as he trudged through mediocre downpour toward his destination.  
  
He walked slowly, shielding himself from the occasional harsh sheath of rain that would swipe at his face. He wove through the trees, making his way across the large estate. He'd only been there once before, in this exact spot, though he seemed to know the way, as if it had been permanently etched in his memory. He stopped when he'd reached it.  
  
  
  
RACHEL  
  
BELOVED DAUGHTER  
  
JAN. 15 2002  
  
OCT. 21 2020  
  
  
  
He looked down at the smooth stone marking Rachel's body, studying the intricate engravings. He continued to stare for what seemed like an eternity. He sighed and lifted his head upward, only to snap it back down and swipe his hands over his face and run his fingers through his hair. Finally, he spoke.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered. I'm so, so sorry."  
  
He took a step closer to the gravestone, running his hand lightly over the marker. "I love you, Rachel."  
  
"I can't change the past. But, I think you deserve an explanation. I know you deserve that much. For everything I did to you, for what I took away from you, you at least deserve that much." He took a shaky breath and continued.  
  
"I know I should've tried harder. I should've resisted. Taken the punishment. Traded my life for yours. But I didn't know it then how much you meant to me, Rachel. And I'm sorry.  
  
"I lied to you. I told you things, about my parents, about my past, hell, even my name. Yeah, they were unimportant, compared to how things turned out, but you deserve to know who I really am. What I really am." Tears began to stream down his face.  
  
"My name's Alec now. I killed Simon Lehane. I've killed too many people. I was nineteen when we met, and I'd been killing on regular basis since I was eight or nine, and preparing to kill years before that. You were supposed to be another mission. Another job. Another potential target. Your father was becoming a threat. I was sent to monitor him, and, should the need arise, take him out. He knew too much, I was ordered to kill him. I tried to get you out if it. When I couldn't do that, I tried to warn you. God, I tried. But I should've tried so much harder. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."  
  
Alec sank to his knees in front of Rachel's grave, resting his arms on the stone and burying his head in his hands, sobbing. "Oh God, Rachel. Please forgive me." His were the only sounds besides the wind for several minutes afterward.  
  
So it was inevitable that Alec would hear the sound of approaching footsteps disturbing the silence.  
  
And it was more than likely that he would hear the whisper the approaching figure made.  
  
"I though I told you never to come back here."  
  
And, of course Alec heard the gun, the man's finger tightening on the trigger. But he didn't move.  
  
And, finally, he heard the bullet.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: I'm mean aren't I? Leaving it there? Maybe, maybe not. I've got a real thing for cliffhangers.  
  
I realize that some of these scenes may seem a bit rushed, and for that, I apologize. If I had added more detail to some of the scenes, I think they would have appeared too repetitive. Oh, well, I try. More action in the next chapters, promise!  
  
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!  
  
-AntipodeanOpaleye 


	6. High Voltage

Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy

By AntipodeanOpaleye

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Oh gosh! I've made it to Chapter Six! And in a decent time frame! As always, I want to thank Johan for looking over this chapter before it was posted (because it was an awful mess this time) and giving me the suggestions and motivation I needed to finish this chapter up. Thank You For All Of Your Help!!! Also, to all of my reviewers, you are incredible! I live for what you have to say! Thank You!

Anyway, hope you like it! 

Chapter Six: High Voltage 

Alec lunged to the right only milliseconds shy of the projected impact. He disappeared for a few moments into the darkness, under the useful veil of the shadowy woods nearby, resurfacing silently at the shooter's side and putting him into a stranglehold, dropping him after his sputtering began to die down.

"Robert Berrisford," he said softly as he took in the man lying at his feet, massaging his neck absently.

"Simon," the man choked with malice.

"Not Simon. Alec." _'God, I sound like Max. All this name shit.'_

"Just another lie," Berrisford hissed. He paused. "I told you never to come back here."

Alec looked at him oddly, lowering himself to face the older man. "Do I look like I care what the fuck you told me? If I want to visit the grave of the first woman I ever loved, I will. And I could give a shit less what you think you're gonna do to me."

"Didn't care so much last time we met," Berrisford muttered. He said his piece quietly, as Alec paced in front of him. So quietly that no human could have heard him. Too bad he wasn't aware that Alec was far from human.

Alec spun around. "What the hell would you know about it?" he spat through clenched teeth. His disposition was murderous, and for a fleeting instant, he appeared as a mirror image of his twin, one that would force any onlookers to take a closer look. "I've got priorities now."

"My daughter's life obviously wasn't one of those?" Berrisford snapped back.

"Dammit," Alec cried in frustration, falling back to lean dependently on a nearby tree, his breathing ragged. "I'm involved now. People depend on me, on what I do. I've got a fucking nation to help lead. This is my business now, my people. I can't let them fight alone." And then, more resolutely, and more to himself, in a whisper the older man didn't quite catch, "I won't let her fight alone."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Berrisford hissed. "Who the hell are you?"

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Alec shot back. "Damn, I thought you were intelligent. Don't you watch the news? Who the hell do you think I am?"

Berrisford paused briefly. "You're the one they show on television. You and the girl."

"Bingo."

"You're not human?" Berrisford asked quietly, though his voice was no less hateful. 

"I wouldn't go that far," Alec said questioningly. "But if you're asking if I was cooked up in a test tube to be genetically perfect and grew up practicing the respectable artistry of cold-blooded murder, then you're right on target."

"What are you trying to say?" Berrisford snarled.

"That you were my job. My mission. You knew too much. You needed to be kept under surveillance. I was ready for my first Solo Mission. I was assigned to keep an eye on you."

"Were you assigned to kill Rachel?"

Alec sighed. "I tried to get her out of it. But I didn't try hard enough. It was determined that you knew too much information about the Manticore project. That it had become dangerous; it had put the program in jeopardy. I was instructed to terminate my target immediately. I didn't want to, and I tried to resist, but even though the job was done, I still had hell to pay."

"None less then you deserved," Berrisford spat again.

"I don't deny I deserved a lot of shit, but I can't have deserved everything they did to me. I may have deserved to die, but back at Manticore, there were things worse than death. Things that broke the limits of the genetically enhanced human and left you almost lifeless, except for the fact that you could feel the pain, piercing your body, nonstop. No one deserves that. It may have been the majority of what I got coming, but did not deserve all of it. Definitely not all of it."

"Mr. Berrisford," Alec said, feeling uncomfortable addressing the man. "You once said that you envied me in a way, for being young, free do as I wanted. I guess I envy anyone who had the opportunity to grow up and live such a life as well." And with that, Alec walked away, not only from a very disconcerted Robert Berrisford, but also from a piece of his painful past.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Zack?" Max whispered, moving to the familiar figure nearby.

"Max," Zack whispered back, wrapping his arms around her gently as she moved into his embrace. "God, Maxie, I missed you."

Max pulled away slightly. "How…?"

"You didn't think I'd just forget you guys now did you? Manticore or no, Maxie, I wouldn't forget my family."

"But everything that happened, Zack. Logan,"

"It's okay now Max," Zack assured her. "I'm back."

Max nodded slowly and let go of her brother, revealing the younger X5 behind her.

"Brin?" Zack said in disbelief. "Is that you?"

"Zack!" Brin cried as she threw her arms around her brother dramatically. Zack twirled her around briefly for effect.

"So you came back, baby sister?" Zack asked, placing Brin at arms-length as if to evaluate her. 

"Yeah," Brin answered ashamedly, "Got some sense knocked into me." She looked over her shoulder and motioned to a male X5 at a table across the room. He walked quickly over. 

"Garret," she began, motioning to the X5, "this is Zack, my big brother and former CO, and Max, my wonderful sister. Zack, Max, this is my husband Garret."

On cue, Max and Zack's jaws dropped simultaneously.

"Husband?" Max managed with a grin.

Brin smiled back, snaking her arm around Garret, looking up at the significantly taller transgenic. "Husband," she repeated confidently.

"It's nice to finally meet some of Brin's ever mentioned family," Garret added, extending a hand to Zack and then to Max.

"Nice to meet you, too," Max said sweetly as Zack eyed him with protective suspicion. 

"Likewise," Zack added. 

Garret nodded and glanced at Brin, who instructed him to return to his prior engagements, whatever they had been. As he walked away, Brin turned back to Max and Zack.

"Does he treat you right?" Zack asked, walking toward her almost tentatively.

Brin smiled. "Yes," she stated seriously. "I know it sounds cliché, but he makes me happier than I ever thought I could be."

Zack put an assuring hand on her right shoulder. "Then that's all that matters."

"As long as you're happy," Max added absently. At the words, her thoughts drifted to a man in her own life. A significant man. One who was always there. But not the man that she'd once thought would bring her happiness.

She thought of Alec.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

It was after dawn by the time Alec had gotten back into the city, having taken to a leisurely pace on his trip. It was still windy, and a steady drizzle of rain was ever present. He sat perched on a small building near the city limits, surprised that, for the most part, the streets of Seattle were still deserted. He could see small, though distinct, crowds rebuilding around Terminal City in the distance, but otherwise, the area was sparsely populated.

Alec walked slowly to the edge of the roof, not bothering to stop and falling gracefully to the ground. He sprang up, glancing cautiously around him for any witnesses. After determining that no one had seen him, he began to walk casually toward Terminal City, but changed his path slightly along the way.

He walked past his former employer, the offices of the Jam Pony Messenger Service, and grinned. He looked at his wrist for the time, in order to figure out if anyone would be inside, only to discover he'd forgotten in back in TC. Sighing, Alec stared at the sky, attempting to figure out the approximate time.

Seven-ish, maybe even around eight. The weather was throwing him off. But either way, there were going to be people in there. Perhaps too many people. But, if Alec knew those people, he was sure the majority of them would be, as usual, late. And so, Alec sidled into the building.

He remained in the shadows, watching the few workers who were on time go about their business. He recognized the majority of them, though some were obviously new recruits. He glanced over to the dispatch area, which was empty. He used his enhanced vision to look into Normal's office, which was, on the other hand, occupied.

When the employees' backs were turned he blurred into the office area, closely the door noiselessly behind him and leaning against it. He cleared his throat to gain Normal's attention.

"Get to work," Normal barked, not looking up from his paper, sipping his coffee distractedly. "Bip! Bip! Bip!"

"Dunno how well that's go over," Alec said sarcastically. "I doubt anyone wants a trannie delivering their packages."

Normal looked up at the comment, his eyes widening slightly. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," he said with a slight grin. "Didn't think you were supposed to leave Terminal City, figured it was too dangerous."

"Oh, it is," Alec answered in a distant voice. He paused and then smiled sarcastically. "But hey, I was trained for this type of thing."

Normal stared at Alec oddly. "Trained? What exactly were you trained for?"

"Everything they say we were trained for. Plus a hell of a lot more, basically."

"So you were trained to," Normal began.

"Kill? Yeah, that was the main thing."

"Have you ever, you know," Normal asked uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Alec replied softly. "Far too many times."

Normal nodded but remained silent. Alec took a deep breath and sighed.

"I'm sorry. About what happened." 

Normal looked up again. "It's no problem. Really. It actually did more good than harm."

"Yeah, well, it shouldn't have happened in any case. How's your arm, anyway?"

Normal grinned. "Still sore. But now I know why you were such a cage fighter."

Alec laughed. "Yeah." His gaze landed outside the office on two familiar figures walking in the establishment. OC and Sketch. Alec grinned.

"Why don't you go say hello, Golden Boy? They've been doing a piss poor job around here ever since you and your buddy Max left, moping 24/7."

Alec looked over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "Thanks Normal."

"No problem, Alec. You Genetically Empowered soldiers are more than you're cracked up to be."

Alec slid out of the office casually, hiding his face slightly from the curious glances of the workers preparing to make their runs. He walked briskly over to the familiar locker area, making his way quickly over to Original Cindy and Sketchy.

"Damn, Boo!" OC was complaining loudly. "You are a moron!"

"Why am I a moron?" Sketchy whined back. "I was just trying to impress her by…"

"Spilling those drink all ova' yourself at Crash? Then huggin' her and a ruinin' her Versace dress or whateva. Real impressive. I know I'd be all ova' you if I was straight. You's a smooth one, boo, but you neva gonna get anywhere with the ladies." 

"I have to try," Sketchy protested. "I'll get someone real soon. Just you wait and see."

"I hate to break it to ya, boo, but I think it might be longer than that."

"I'm gonna have to agree with OC," Alec added, stepping into view. "But you'll find somebody eventually, Sketch."

"Alec! My man," Sketchy greeted him enthusiastically, slapping him on the back.

"Boo!" Original Cindy said excitedly, wrapping her arms around him. "How you been?"

Alec paused, staring off for a moment. "I've been okay."

"How's everyone else?" Cindy asked anxiously. "Max and Joshua and everyone. You guys have been getting some heavy publicity."

"I noticed," Alec replied, glancing around at all of the Ordinaries, only just realizing the two completely different worlds they live in.

"They hate us," Alec stated abruptly, observing the humans go about their work. "Every single one of them fears us."

"No boo," Cindy assured him. "They just don't understand."

"They hate us," Alec restated. "I guess I just don't fully understand why. We've never done anything to them. We were trained to be what we are; we didn't have a choice. Didn't know any better. We can't help what we are."

Cindy and Sketchy were at a loss for words, remaining silent and letting the words take effect. A dark look past over Alec's face as he evaluated the people he'd once associated with on a regular basis. But the look disappeared in a matter of seconds, one of his trademark grins, the ones he always wore when he wanted to hide his emotions, taking its place.

"Enough about me," Alec dismissed the previous topic smoothly. "I didn't come here to talk about myself. How are you doing?"

"Well, I'm…" Sketchy began.

"Just fine boo," Cindy cut his blabbering off. "Me an' Sketchy doin real good, keeping good ol' Cale in line ova' at Joshua's. Don't you be worrying your pretty self over us." Alec smiled.

"Alec," Sketchy reentered the conversation. "Isn't it really dangerous for you to be out here?"

Alec's eyes darkened. "Yeah," he said hazily.

"You should leave soon, boo," OC added. "You neva' know what kinda trouble's out there lookin' to try an' put the smack down on yo' ass." 

And, as if the occurrence had been scripted and rehearsed, the gunfire began, once again, directly outside Jam Pony. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Special Agent Ames White," he said proudly to the man attempting to stop his unit from entering the Jam Pony offices. "I'm going to need you to step aside. There is a potentially dangerous man suspected of entering this establishment and it's imperative that you allow us to evacuate those in danger so that we may apprehend this criminal."

"A transgenic, you mean?" the man spat angrily. His face was covered by a large hood, but that wasn't anything to be suspicious of anymore.

"What makes you think that?" White asked in mock innocence, a sly grin twisting on his lips.

"Since when did a special agent such as yourself deal with anything else in this broken city."

"Got me there," Ames said sardonically. "Now if you'll step aside…"

"I'm sorry. I can't do that."

"Sir, I'm afraid you must not realize who you are dealing with.."

The hooded man interrupted him. "Unfortunately, I know all too well who I'm dealing with, Mr. White."

"I doubt that," Ames smirked, fingering his gun.

"Go ahead and shoot me," the man taunted.

And Agent White complied.

The unit White had brought with him opened fire on the rebellious man, aiming to kill. They were unconcerned with collateral damage.

As the shooting began, Alec blurred out of the building amid the panicked and screaming Jam Pony employees. He quickly disarmed the human reinforcements, knocking them easily to the ground with a single blow, tossing each of their weapons across the street. That's when he recognized his final opponent. Ames White was quite engaged in what appeared to be a very good match up with what looked like an everyday male civilian. But he was holding a much younger looking Familiar at bay, and that was definitely not any normal human trait.

Alec blurred over to White, pulling him forcefully off the other man, who fell limply to the ground, unmoving.

"494," White greeted the transgenic maliciously. "Nice to see you again." White glanced briefly over at the crowd of messengers gathered outside Jam Pony. "Your little ragtag group of friends?" he commented, studying them. Big mistake.

Alec took advantage of White's distraction, grabbing his arm and twisting it disgustingly behind his back. He hooked the man's neck into a tight headlock, ignoring White's free, flailing arm.

Alec looked over at the Jam Pony employees, all of which were watching with a mixture of extreme fright and complete disbelief. Except for Sketchy and Original. They were enthralled, no doubt, but they knew what Alec was capable of, and they were waiting expectantly for what they assumed would be a victorious outcome. But suddenly, Alec realized that, due to his lack of attention, he now found himself in a very compromising position. 

Ames twisted strangely, flipping Alec to the ground by his collar. He lowered himself, preparing to grab hold of Alec's neck and smoothly snap it with a finalizing crack. But just because Alec was distracted enough to let his guard down in the first place did not, by any means, limit his ability to release himself from the situation.

Alec arched his back, using his momentum to launch himself from the ground. He delivered a powerful roundhouse to the man's cheek, hooking his foot to ensure the damage. The right side of Ames' face was covered in blood, but the Familiar continued to fight with rage.

Alec took his fighting stance, blocking a heavy left hook directed at his chin simultaneously with a blow aimed at his temple. Alec spun out of reach to plan his attack, and immediately retaliated with a back kick, which landed directly at it's target; White's stomach. Ames doubled over, composed himself, and charged at the transgenic. He produced a commendable series of attacks; a jump kick, an impulsive slap in the face, and side kick and an elbow strike. Alec deflected the jump kick with an effective down block, using the same technique to shield himself from another kick directed at his side. He took the slap, which disoriented him considerably, and didn't retrieve his bearings until he was hit again with a more powerful elbow strike to the forehead. Alec stumbled backwards, loosing his footing completely, blood flowing quickly from his wound. 

White resisted the urge to charge at him. Instead, he drew his gun calmly and took aim.

Alec blurred out of the way, stopping behind White and ripping the weapon from his grasp. He threw the gun haphazardly, putting the man in a strangle hold. After White's gagging and gasping began to subdue, Alec let go of the limp form, almost regretful to see it move upon release. Alec appeared above the form, perfectly prepared to deliver a final bone breaking shuto to the neck if necessary, attentive audience witnessing it or no.

"You don't deserve to live, you know," Alec hissed. "I should kill you. For what you've done to me. To my kind." Alec paused, staring curiously at the man before him.

"But, unlike you, I don't believe in taking advantage of an unfair situation such as this. We'll settle this on different terms, Ames. You have my word."

"I don't think so…" White began, but Alec cut him off.

"Don't make me tie you to a pole again," Alec threatened sarcastically. "Do you think you intimidate me? Because if you do, you're sorely mistaken. So when you wake up, wherever you may be, I advise you to stay there, and never show you're face here again. If you value your life at all, stay away."

And with that, Alec delivered a final blow to White's head, effectively relieving him from consciousness for the time being.

Alec took out his cell phone, oblivious to the workers still staring fixedly at him, dialing a number he'd picked up on accident, but always somehow thought he'd need.

"Seattle Police Department," a man on the other line answered in a gruff voice.

"Yeah, a Detective Clemente please?"

"Hold your horses kid," the man replied and put Alec on hold.

"Clemente," a voice picked up the line.

"Detective, I happen to be aware that you've been in contact with the transgenics…"

"You people just don't get it, do you?" Clemente asked angrily. "I'm not changing my mind; no interviews, standpoints, nothing. I'm a detective, I don't get along with the media."

"I'm not calling to ask you for an interview or anything of the sort, Detective. I need a favor."

"Why the hell you asking me?" Clemente asked impatiently.

"I need you to take a criminal into custody," Alec replied, staring at the unconscious form at his feet. 

"Like I said, what do you me for?"

"Because you backed down," Alec answered simply, referring to the night after the hostage situation.

"You're a…"

"Yes. But I need this done quickly and quietly. No questions asked nor answered. The subject is not to be told anything. Take him to a secure location. Anywhere. Just not here. I'll make it up to you."

Clemente sighed. "Where are you at?"

Alec grinned. "Jam Pony Messenger Service, I think you're familiar with the location. I'll be in touch." 

As Alec folded his cell phone, his eyes caught another figure lying to the side of the building. The man that White had attacked earlier.

Alec rushed over to the figure. He was relieved to see the man begin to move slightly, his breathing shallow and obviously painful. 

"Hey," Alec said in a soft voice as he tried to support the man. He was a middle-aged man, with dark eyes and dark blonde hair streaked with gray. "You ok?"

The man groaned. "Yeah," he hissed as he attempted to sit up, but couldn't. "Forgot what a challenge they could be, I suppose."

"You've tangoed with Familiars before?" Alec asked skeptically.

"Unfortunately," he said, evidently surprised that Alec knew anything about the group. He extended his hand awkwardly. "Alexander," the man said, his voice strained.

"Alec," he replied as the shook hands. It was at this point that Alexander noticed the beaten form of the Familiar a few yards away. His jaw dropped. 

"Did you do that," Alexander asked. Alec followed his gaze.

"Yeah," Alec answered self-consciously.

"You just took out one of the most highly trained Familiars of his generation! Humans can't…" Alexander stopped suddenly, obviously believing he'd said far too much. 

"No, I'm sure they can't," Alec replied incredulously. "But why don't you tell me a little more about yourself before you take this little share session any further. You are the one in more compromising position, you know." 

Alexander sighed. "I'll tell you enough to write my biography if you'll tell me how you took him down," he said, gesturing to the unconscious form of Ames White.

"I've wrangled with Ames here enough times to know his fighting style," Alec answered vaguely. 

Alexander sighed. "I set myself up for that one didn't I?" he asked good-naturedly. Alec grinned. There was something about this guy that seemed almost paternal. Just that nice-guy aura, so to speak. 

"Why don't we just go with a name to begin with. A full name." Alec offered as a compromise.

Alexander looked skeptical, but complied. "Doctor Alexander Vincent Sandeman III," he said in an undertone, "but let's keep that between you and me."

Alec was silent for a moment, allowing the name time to sink in.

"Sandeman?" Alec asked in disbelief. "So you're…"

"His father," Sandeman motioned to Ames again. "I assumed you would put that together once I gave you my name, but for some reason, Familiar or no, you didn't give the impression that you were after a traitor such as myself."

"Not what I meant," Alec answered distantly. "You are _the_ Sandeman, though, aren't you? The amazing genetic man? The creator of the freaks?"

"What did you just say?" Sandeman asked him harshly. 

"You're him, aren't you," Alec repeated, now a statement rather than a question. "You created Manticore."

"What exactly would you know about it? And why would you care? Familiars don't enjoy being connected to the genetically superior."

"You think I'm some selectively-bred disaster?" Alec asked sarcastically. "That hurts. I don't know what's worse, your assumption or the truth."

"Only a Familiar has ever had a chance against another Familiar. In that case, what exactly is the truth?" Sandeman prompted.

"That I was made in a lab. Cooked up by some geek in a test tube. Under your orders, from what I hear."

This stopped Sandeman dead in his tracks.

"You're a transgenic?" He asked disbelieving, "And you took him out?"

"Obviously," Alec replied sardonically.

"How can you prove you're a transgenic?" Sandeman demanded.

Alec paused for a moment. How the hell was he supposed to prove that if taking out White wasn't enough? Then he remembered. He turned, revealing the reappearing barcode on his neck. 

"You're really one of them? One of my kids?"

"Ugh, now you're starting to sound like Lydecker," Alec said with distaste, remembering his few encounters with the man back at Manticore.

"Donald Lydecker," Sandeman spat with malice. "He made a mockery of what I was trying to achieve. Mutated a blessing into a sin, so to speak. He corrupted everything. If I'd been able to stay, it wouldn't have been that way. And then there was Elizabeth. That woman was the last straw for the Manticore program. She was a real piece of work; I can give her that much. Even if she was a no name Renfro from Detroit." He looked pointedly at Alec. "I'm sure I can't even begin to fathom what you were put through. It was my responsibility to look after every one of you. And if it cost me my life, I should have stayed and protected you. But I didn't. And for that I'm sorry." 

Alec nodded in recognition, though not in acceptance.

"Nothing will be able to compensate for the time we spent as slaves, learning to kill. Nothing can return the time that was robbed from us." Alec said softly. 

"I thought I could trust those I left in charge to take care of you. All of you. No matter what you looked like or how useful they believed you were. You all were equally valuable. I didn't want to leave, I shouldn't have. Joshua was the only one who would've really understood that I left for a reason, the others would have just put together that I was gone at their ages. But that didn't make what I did to him, all of you, right."

"Joshua?" Alec asked incredulously. "Dog boy, Joshua right?"

Sandeman winced slightly. "He had some canine DNA, yes."

"He thinks your some kind of god, you know. The way he talks about you." Alec paused.

"You know him?" Sandeman asked skeptically. 

"Josh? Of course I know Joshua."

Sandeman looked torn. "He's not, you know, around here, now, is he?" the man asked tentatively.

"Actually, yeah, he is. He was the first one to go."

"Go where?"

Alec stared at Sandeman. "Don't you watch the news? Transgenic Central. Terminal City. It the only place you have. And I doubt we'll have it for long." 

"Can you tell me where to go? How to get there?"

Alec looked at him. "It's really no problem. I'll take you there, I'm headed home anyway." He offered a hand to the middle aged man still lying on the ground.

Sandeman stared at Alec's hand for what seemed like an eternity, taking in the blood and dirt that was caked onto his arm. Sandeman's gaze moved up to his face and clothing, both of which were twice as sullied as his arm. 

"You're hurt," Sandeman stated bluntly. "I would be a burden to you. I'll only create a more dangerous scenario for you in an already perilous journey on the outside. I'll only become a hindrance. I thank you for your kindness, but I'm sorry, I cannot accept your offer." 

Alec rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "And you're supposedly the man behind it all. You really don't have a clue, do you? About what we are capable of. What we are."

Sandeman sighed and briefly looked away, looking both embarrassed and indignant as he turned back to Alec. "I know what you were supposed to be. What we were supposed to achieve as a whole. But what you are? What they made you? I'm sorry, but on that, I haven't the faintest clue." 

Alec nodded simply. "First thing, we heal fast. Second thing, pain is a figment of the mind. You feel it, yeah, but you can chose whether or not you acknowledge it. We learned that one early," he paused, staring off into the distance for a few moments, caught in his own memories of the lesson. He quickly snapped out of his reverie. "Third, we don't let anything stop us. Nothing. Death even has a hard time keeping us down." Alec offered his hand once more to the man. This time, he accepted the help. 

"Thank you," Sandeman said after he'd stood, removing his oversized hooded sweatshirt and smoothed out the extremely expensive looking suit he was wearing underneath. 

"Any time," Alec said as he turned, but stopped suddenly. "Give me one minute."

He sauntered over to Normal, who was still standing transfixed outside of Jam Pony along with the rest of the employees. 

"A Detective Clemente should be coming to take our friend Ames away soon. Make sure that he doesn't forget." 

Normal nodded automatically, still in shock from the display his Golden Boy had just given.

"Thanks," Alec said as he turned to OC and Sketchy who were only about three people down from Normal.

"And thank you too," Alec told them in an undertone. "For accepting us. For what and who we are." 

OC hugged him tightly. "You're family, boo. You're all family. OC would never just toss her family out the window."

Alec smiled as he turned to Sketchy.

"She's right man," Sketchy said as he gave Alec a quick hug himself. "Whether you got freaky genes or not, you're still Alec."

"Thanks," Alec repeated, turning back to Sandeman, knowing that this time, he really might never get a chance to see his friends again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Oh God," Donald Lydecker moaned, though it came out muffled, as he woke up, finding himself in a large, dingy room, handcuffed and gagged.

"Ah, Donald," a familiar voice taunted him from across the room, the soft light of early morning streaming through the windows, outlining the figure in light, leaving his identity shrouded in darkness.

"Where the hell am I, 599," Lydecker tried to say through the cloth in his mouth.

Zack blurred to stand in front of him, his face inches from Lydecker's. "My name is Zack. I thought we'd cleared that one up." Zack tore the gag from his prisoner's mouth viciously. 

"Zack, I apologize. Bad habit." 

"Whatever," Zack said as he sat down beside his former superior. "You're in Terminal City, the current transgenic stronghold. Max said that I should take you here before anyone else saw you, to stay until you woke up."

"Max?" Lydecker said disbelieving. "She's going to want to see me, suspect?"

"She's the leader here, I have no doubt that she and Alec will want to have a little chat with their good friend 'Deck," Zack stated wryly. 

"That doesn't surprise me."

Zack fell silent.

"Got anything to drink? Eat? Something?" Lydecker asked pleadingly.

Zack eyed him coldly. "Not for you. At least, not yet."

Lydecker sighed. No less than he deserved.

"Are you planning on untying me anytime soon?" Lydecker asked innocently.

"Depends. Max doesn't want you on your own until Alec comes back. But maybe I'll be nice and take you out for a walk. But we'll have to keep you on a leash." Zack paused, eyeing the rope nearby. "In fact, that's exactly what we'll do."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Transgenics can take on the Familiars?" Sandeman asked interestedly as he and Alec made their way to Terminal City in the shadows. No matter what the world had come to, two bloody men walking around as if nothing had happened was sure to raise some eyebrows. Alec offered to take Sandeman to Harbor Lights, but he insisted on going to Terminal City and seeing that Alec made it there safely.   


"Well, I guess that could be one way of describing what just happened back there." Alec added.

"It worked," the man said distantly, more to himself than to Alec. "It really worked."

"What worked?" Alec asked, confused, shooting a sideways glance at the older man.

"Everything. You see, I had another son, after Ames. I was beginning to see what was amiss with the cult, and so, with my scientific knowledge, I took the liberty of testing his DNA before he was tested. I knew he wasn't going to survive the poisoning. It was from his mother, as I could see. Anyway, I brought this to the attention of The Conclave, but they continued with tradition. I wasn't about to allow my son die at their mercy, for whatever reason. I sent him away and shortly afterwards, left myself and went into hiding. I began the Manticore Program on my own with a few aspiring scientists from across the country. I trusted each of them greatly, telling them of my plans to create a race of beings that could live better, were superior, were more intelligent, but had emotions, and a conscious. People that were still able to live and love. And, in the process, make them so amazingly advanced that they would be able to foil the plans of the Familiars."

"Sounds like a plan," Alec agreed. "But then the government stepped in."

Sandeman sighed. "Unfortunately. Donald Lydecker took over, threatened my authority. It was at that point that I discovered that Familiars had integrated themselves into the government, and that they'd wanted to shut my project down. But the military believed that my work could prove valuable. So they sent Lydecker out to train my children. They claimed it would be beneficial, more visible progress could be seen if we took this route, that the children could be kept under control. I did not agree, and so they took it a step further, no longer simply threatening my position, but now also threatening my life." 

Alec nodded. "So Lydecker steps in and trains us to be killers. Apathetic assassins. Corrupting us poor innocent youth. And no one stopped him." 

Sandeman sighed solemnly. "Yes. I was cowardly, and I feared for my life. And so I stayed in hiding.

"Only about seven years ago did I emerge, taking the name I used in college, Mark Szeushae. I built multiple estates across America. One in Boston, one in DC, one in Miami, one in Dallas, one in Cleveland, one in Chicago, one in Kansas City, one in Sacramento, and one in Las Vegas. Nine, in correspondence with the nine X Series I'd drawn plans for all of which I am proud of, whether they resulted in anomalies, transhumans, or the perfect model, such as the X5 is considered. I created the elite fortress in each location, learning everything I could about how the Manticore program had turned out. Where you all were. If there was any way I could contact you or see you without the government knowing. After I'd gathered enough information, I planned on leaving to find you all. But then the Familiars caught on. I knew they'd been watching me for months, but playing naïve was my best option at the time. They weren't going to make a move; they would have to wait until I showed my face in public to take me into custody, arrest me for some harebrained story that they'd fed to the authorities. They need me alive, now that they've delved more into my works at Manticore, and have come up against more transgenics, finding themselves coming out on the bottom instead of their regular victories. They're frightened. Petrified even, scared that they've met their match. They think that they can persuade me to join them once more. They need me to spoon-feed them the answers. And, should the time ever arise that I should encounter such an offer, I will, of course, refuse."

Alec nodded, sliding through a small space between two buildings, pausing to look for occupants of the side street he was about to lead them onto. It was, fortunately, close to deserted. There was only an older couple walking on the opposite side of the road. They could wait. 

"That sure clears up a bit," Alec responded to Sandeman's explanation. "But there's a hell of a lot more."

"I know," Sandeman said, his tone undecipherable.

"And so you're willing to explain the unexplainable to a bunch of impatient transgenics? Including myself and Max?"

"Max?" Sandeman asked curiously.

"We sort of run Terminal City together," Alec said, dismissing the topic. "Me and her are going to have a lot of questions for you. Important questions, most likely private questions. I'd ask you now, but I figure it'd be best to wait until we make it to the Promised Land for the whole show and tell session."

Sandeman grinned. "As you wish."

Alec looked across the street for the pedestrians, but they had already passed them by. He turned back to Sandeman. "Looks like we'll be reaching the Promised Land in no time. Let's go."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Logan Cale sat at the old, dusty table at Joshua's former residence where he now lived with Original Cindy and Sketchy. He'd assured them that moving back into their own apartments would be fine, but they claimed they enjoyed it where they were. He couldn't blame them; the place was cozy and very comfortable, even if it didn't have quite the penthouse view, as Max had put it. And it wasn't like he minded them being there. He enjoyed the company. But he was still adjusting to not having a place of his own, without the privileges and freedoms of single, bachelor life. 

He was typing quickly, writing an e-mail to Dix at the Command Center, asking if there was anything he could do for them, any supplies they needed. He knew that they'd deny his aide even if they were starving, but it was always nice to ask, wasn't it? He felt obligated in any case.

Logan stopped abruptly, staring blankly at the screen, running his fingers through his hair. He wondered what Max was up to. He'd thought of going in to talk to her multiple times, holding onto the hope that his support after the Jam Pony incident had changed things, but had always thought better of it. It was over. His assistance was friendly, no more, no less. She'd accepted it, and, if only just recently, he had too. They were friends, if you could call their non-existent relationship such, and that was where the line had been drawn.

It would have happened with or without the virus, and, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, with or without Alec. Though it hadn't helped the situation, the fact that he simply couldn't compare to the X5 alpha male. Regardless of the other man's sex appeal and natural charisma, not mention the fact that he could relate to Max's troubles and would, just like himself, give his life for Max in an instant, things never would have worked out for he and Max. Maybe for a while. Maybe. But it was doubtful that it would have been some fairy tale, living the happily ever after. He'd seen that, with some help. He thought back to the last evening, when he'd been getting a drink at Crash, attempting to drown his sorrows, his thoughts of Max, with his most effective option: alcohol. He'd been sitting at the bar when she'd came and sat next to him.

__

"Well, Mr. Cale," Asha said skeptically, evaluating his glass. "I didn't think that vodka was your style."

Logan laughed hollowly. "Neither did I."

Asha smiled slightly, almost solemnly.

"Tequila Shot, please," she said to the barkeep, pausing slightly before adding, "Make that a beer instead." She then turned instantly back to Logan, who was staring off blindly.

"Uncharacteristic drinks, and then loss of concentration? All in one night? Something's up."

Logan stared at her for a few moments, only just realizing the attention she given to him to notice such quirks.

"Hmm," Logan uttered in response, unsure of what else to say. Asha moved in closer, brushing against his shoulder.

"I may not be a transgenic," she whispered into his ear softly, "but if you're moping about Max again, I'll kick your ass." 

Logan turned sharply to her. "What do you mean?"

"It's about Max, right?" Asha prodded, needing a straight answer.

"Maybe," Logan said in a would-be innocent voice, he facial expression betraying the truth.

"What is it, exactly," Asha asked pointedly, "that makes you want her? Besides her looks. Something that no other woman has, that you couldn't get anywhere else."

Logan paused thinking. What was it that made him want Max? "We've been through a lot together."

"Not good enough. Alec has a far better argument." Logan cringed slightly at the mention of the male X5's relationship with Max.

"That fact is," Asha said, knowingly, taking a swig of her drink, "you're afraid of change."

Logan was dumbfounded. Eyes Only was not afraid of change! Who was she to judge him? He was about to voice this; not able to think twice due to his drunkenness, but Asha seemed to read his thoughts. 

"And don't go using your job with Eyes Only as an excuse. The real you is quite different than the professional. You are much more vulnerable." She paused. "Not that that's a bad thing. I find it quite attractive." She glanced over at Logan, who caught her gaze. 

"I thought you and Max were great for each other. Meant to be. True love. But then Alec came into the picture. He was just fate's way of speeding up the inevitable. He's not you, probably the complete opposite, in fact. But if you and Max were meant to be, then Max and Alec were made for each other, and are the perfect couple. Even if they haven't quite worked out the kinks. You can see it in the way they look at each other. I guess what I'm trying to say is, everyone has a somebody, Logan. You thought you had Max, but now Max has Alec. Don't you think you should let yourself try to find your somebody? That special person that makes you feel complete? She might be right under your nose."

Logan looked down at the countertop, ashamed. She was right, and he'd been stupid not to see it.

"Logan," she whispered desperately, waiting for him to raise his gaze back up to meet hers.

"I'm lonely. I need someone. And I've decided that if I don't put my heart on the line, I'm not really living at all. So I'm just going to say this, and damn the consequences. I want you Logan."

Logan's jaw dropped immediately afterward. 

"What?" Logan stammered, shocked.

"I want to see what could happen if there was an 'us'. I want to see what we could do for each other." Her eyes were scared, but her voice was firm.

Logan remained silent. He couldn't just forget about Max, after all they'd been through, but Asha had a valid point. Maybe they could be something, make something, together. Something that Max and he weren't able to accomplish. Like a human relationship. Because even though he'd claimed it never mattered where she was from, which it didn't, it was always going to be an obstacle, something that they'd have to get over only to be thrown back where they began at destiny's will. 

And he couldn't deny that he was attracted to the blonde. Very attracted. What perfection the transgenics possessed through genetics Asha had nearly mirrored in real life. She was extraordinarily appealing to him, and, in reality, much more his style. He glanced up at her, catching her expectant gaze.

"What if it doesn't work out?" he asked.

Asha shrugged. "Not like we talk much anymore, anyway. We'd just be back where we started, with a little more experience in love, at that. We're both adults, we can handle it, can't we?"

Logan nodded distantly, his eyes revealing that he was deep in thought. Asha stood from her chair.

"Look," she said pointedly. "I know you're not one to rush into something without properly thinking it over. So, I'll give you some time. Meet me tomorrow seven-ish here if you want to give this a shot. Right here. It's your call. I'll be waiting." And with another swallow of her beer, she was gone.

Logan leaned back in his chair, recalling the events. A small smile formed on his lips as he stood, looking at the time on his computer. It was still early, but he might as well start trying to find something decent to wear tonight. After all, he was a perfectionist, and if he wanted things to work out, he wanted to start things off on the right foot when he went to meet Asha.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Zack walked down the dingy alley way, impatiently dragging a very submissive and handcuffed Donald Lydecker behind him. He paused slightly when he heard the man moan.

"What, Deck?" he asked sardonically. "Don't like being out of control?"

He was completely prepared to go into a lengthy account of how Lydecker had been the one to inflict hell upon them, take away their control and other such sins, but he as stopped abruptly by the sight of a female figure several yards in front of him.

Zack led the obedient Lydecker to a large column supporting a nearby building, unlocking and re-cuffing him to the large pole, pushing him backwards into the shadow. "Stay here," Zack hissed as he shoved the keys back into his pocket, quickly making his way to the woman, completely clueless on what he'd say to her when he stopped, he really quite unsure on how to simply accomplish that.

"Hey," he said, lightly grabbing her shoulder impulsively.

She turned slowly, her uncertainty easy to detect.

Zack's mouth dropped right on cue as she revealed herself.

She was gorgeous, and, in Zack's humble opinion, exact perfection. She was slender and tall, dressed entirely in sleek black akin to Zack's own ensemble. Her short blonde hair was styled in complementary shag, framing her lovely face. He skin was milky white with rosy tints in all the right places. Her dark eyes were beautiful, and her full, red lips were upturned into a slight, innocent smile. She seemed to be evaluating him pleasantly, as he had done to her. 

If truth be told, she was attracted to him. She took in his muscular physique, his tanned skin, and his chiseled features with interest. His dirty blonde hair hung handsomely across his lovely face, his eyes intent. His black outfit matched her ensemble perfectly. She smiled again, more seductively than before. 

"Hello," she whispered almost shyly.

"Hello," Zack replied in an equally small whisper.

They stood in silence for a few breathtaking moments, taking in the sight of one another in peaceful serenity.

"You're beautiful," Zack blurted out, blushing slightly as he realized he'd said so out loud.

"Thank you," she said softly, blushing deeply. "No one's ever sincerely said that to me before."

"I find that hard to believe," Zack said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. She blushed deeply. 

"Umm," Zack stammered, sighing deeply and trying again.

"Would you, maybe, like to, I don't know, go up to my place for a little while?"

She smiled. "I'd like that." She paused. "on one condition."

"Which would be?"

"A name," she stated simply.

"Oh. Zack. How 'bout yourself?"

"Maggie."

"That's a beautiful name, you know."

Maggie grinned even wider.

Zack placed his arm around her shoulders gently as he led her toward his charge still lying in the shadows. Maggie leaned happily into his innocent embrace.

__

"Well," she though to herself,_ "looks like Alec was right. I was destined for love at first site."_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Detective Clemente walked briskly from his squad car, which he parked across the street from the Jam Pony Messenger Service, his trench coat billowing with the cool wind.

He approached the building, preparing to enter when he saw the body.

He laughed softly, quite amused.

"Special Agent In Charge Ames White," he said with boyish entertainment, chuckling in satisfaction. "At least your not tied up. That's a step up."

The Detective hadn't known which transgenic had called him, but he suspected the head male that had been involved in the hostage situation. He pulled out his cuffs and restrained the unconscious form of Ames White. He began to walk back to his car, but was stopped by a temporarily crippling blow to his side.

Ames White stood uncomfortably, stretching his arms and rotating his neck. He grabbed the keys to the cuffs from the incapacitated Detective's coat pocket, unlocking the apparatus. 

"You screwed up, Detective," he said sarcastically, an evil grin on his face as he walked down the street to where he'd left his own vehicle a block away. "But thanks for coming out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"So," Alec said, leaping down from the three-story building and landing in his characteristic feline crouch. Sandeman followed suit, descending in the vertical style of the Familiars from the adjacent two-story building.

"You're ready?"

Sandeman nodded, sighing slightly.

"Then lets head on in. Quick stop at the infirmary, first though, if you don't mind. I'd like to get properly cleaned up if that's ok with you."

"Likewise," Sandeman replied, following Alec's lead.

The two men sidled toward the clinic, comfortably chatting in hushed tones like they'd known each other for years.

"So," Sandeman began eagerly, "what exactly what do you like to do in your spare time? I'm sure your not easily amused with ordinary things, with all the places and accomplishments you have."

Alec laughed softly. "I, my friend, as well as many of my kind, are quite the contrary. We are amused with the most human of things. Drinking, pool, television, music and the opposite sex highlight our favorites list. Add a few heists here and there for an adrenaline rush, and of course the all popular survival routine and you got a perfect day in the life of you average everyday transgenic in Post Pule Seattle." 

Sandeman chuckled. "Sounds like the life."

"Just living the childhood we never had," Alec added distantly.

Sandeman nodded solemnly. "I see."

"Yeah," Alec replied, returning with a question of his own. "So, tell me about these estates of yours? What does one do with such large amounts of cash?"

Sandeman smiled. "Quite a bit. I equipped each of these mansions with a state of the art computer system and laboratory. There's endless luxuries in each; I'd always hoped I could offer them to visitors, and possibly even as living space to my children n one day."

"Looks like that one didn't work out. One's crazy and the other's bloodthirsty. Not a good match."

To Alec's surprise, the man grinned. "I supposed my early plans included CJ and Ames, but those estates were built after the fact. They were built to possibly house you, and your kind. I want to give you the world. Provide everything you could dream of. Give you wonderful lives. Help you fight the Familiars. The war would seem like just a game to you in your perfect lives. I'd planned to make all of you happy, regardless of what you looked like or how you acted. It's incredible how awry thing went. Sad, really. But perhaps, one day, you could make your home in one of those lovely places. I'd be honored to have you at least stay, I believe that you would be quite amused with the array of intriguing additions I've made to them." 

Alec grinned, imagining the possibilities. "Maybe someday."

He walked casually into the infirmary, quietly looking for Ronnie, knowing she'd be somewhere in the building. She wasn't always on duty, but she liked to stay around in case she was needed, nonetheless.

"Ronnie," he called softly, looking in the multiple makeshift rooms they'd set up. He felt at tap on the shoulder and spun around warily.

"Alec," Ronnie greeted him openly, though stopping abruptly upon seeing the blood mangling his face and upper body. "What the hell did you do this time, Alec?" Her voice was chiding, but full of concern.

"Picked a schoolyard fight with a boy who started talking shit about transgenics, mommy dearest," Alec said with mock shame. Ronnie grinned.

"Did you win that schoolyard fight?" she asked.

"Beat his ass into the ground," Alec replied proudly.

Ronnie giggled lightly. "Are you in pain?" she asked, looking at his wounds. 

"Nah, looks worse than it is."

"I'm sure," Ronnie replied, only just seeing the man behind Alec.

"My goodness, you don't look so good yourself," she said to him, though didn't leave Alec's side.

"That's a friend of mine who got beat up pretty bad before I got into the fight. Think you could take a look at him, clean him up a bit?" Alec asked her.

"You're going to take some time," she said skeptically.

"I can wait, take care of him first."

Ronnie looked at Alec questioningly, wondering what he was up to. She shrugged, but led the older man to a cot across the room. "Wait around, Alec. I'll be with you as soon as I can."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

She heard someone come in, and her heart dropped when she heard the soft voice looking for the nurse. It was unmistakable. 

The voice was Alec's.

Max had been in the infirmary looking at supplies. She'd gone down to talk to Gem and her baby girl, Grace, and had afterward stopped by to take a look at their medical inventory. She'd been in the back room, counting up their supplies when she'd heard him.

She walked slowly toward his voice, almost afraid of what she might find. She heard Ronnie's voice, but wasn't thinking clear enough to decipher what she was saying. She heard footsteps go to a nearby cot and pull a curtain, and Max walked in, peaking around the corner and gasping at the bloody sight of Alec leaning casually against the wall across from her.

"Alec!" she whispered as she rushed over to him. "What the hell happened?" 

"Maxie, are you worried about my well being? I'm touched."

"Damn right, I am. What did you do?"

"Got into a wrangle with our buddy Ames," Alec said as if it was no big deal.

"What! Are you ok? Why isn't Ronnie…" Max asked urgently, but Alec cut her off.

"I'm fine, Maxie. Really. Ronnie's taking a look at another guy who got caught in the fight."

"A transgenic?" Max asked expectantly.

"Not exactly," Alec answered uncomfortably. "You'll probably want to talk to him though, once he gets cleaned up." 

"You look horrible, Alec," she whispered, moving closer to him.

"Thanks Maxie," Alec answered with a sarcastic grin.

"I was wondering where you were last night and this morning. I was worried, you should have told me where you were. What with you being wounded and all, you're lucky to have gotten out of that fight with White alive." She unknowingly had made her way extraordinarily close to Alec. He impulsively grabbed her hands, holding them loosely. 

"I'm sorry," he said simply though sincerely, squeezing her hands for effect. 

"It's ok," she said, staring at her delicate hands in Alec's strong ones. She smiled slightly, studying his grasp. Suddenly, she backed away, her eyes wide with fear.

"Max, what," Alec started, but she cut him off his a harsh, wavering whisper.

"Alec," she said breathlessly, her eyes still on his hands, "please tell me those are tattoos."

Alec started at her, confused until he followed her gaze down to his hands, his eyes widening in fear, but not in surprise.

The Minoan Runes were clearly visible on his wrists and palms.

A/N: You probably saw that one coming. Oh Well. 

A little more physical action, which is a good thing, from what I hear. More Max/Alec action in the upcoming chapters, though. I promise! 

Anyway, R/R, Thanks!

-AntipodeanOpaleye


	7. Runed

Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy

By AntipodeanOpaleye

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Been a while, no? I'm very, very sorry for the wait. I really don't have any good excuse, except for some family stuff and that life had just started to catch up with me. But now I'm relatively caught up, and I plan on, at one time or another, finishing this in a somewhat timely fashion. Then again, I plan a lot of things don't I? Oh well… it will get done, that's a promise. New Year's Resolution, you see, "Finish What You Start." ;)

Anyway, didn't have much time to beta this yet, but I did want to post it, and I didn't want to bother Era with it, seeing as I've said, 'The new chapter's going to be done, mind if I send it?' about a thousand times, and then gone and changed my mind about where I want it to go, doing a rewrite of half the chapter. Sorry about that, Era. I'm a fickle person. And anyway, I'm still not extraordinarily pleased with this chapter. So much dialogue. Not exactly my thing.

In any case, I do hope you enjoy. R/R, if you would, and let me know what you think. Thanks!

~AO

Chapter Seven: Rune-d

"Alec?" Max ventured tentatively. "Dix should see those. We should document them, we need to…"

"No," Alec cut her off distractedly. "No. He's going to explain this one. And a hell of a lot more. Right now," he added as he walked toward the nearby patient area, brushing past the curtain.

"Alec," Max tried to stop him, but ended up following him in.

"Ronnie," Alec said in a low, soft, but commanding voice, "thank you for the help. But we need to have a word with _him_ in private."

Ronnie appeared to be prepared to object, but the fire in Alec's eyes was silencing. She nodded and turned to leave.

Alec approached the man on the bed, lifting his jacket sleeve to reveal an entire forearm of blackish colored runes.

"What do they say?" Alec demanded in a deadly voice.

"You're 494?" the middle aged man asked incredulously. "Why didn't you say so?"

"I didn't have a reason to. And you never asked, now did you?"

"Alec," Max hissed from behind him, "what the hell is going on here?"

"Max," Alec asked suddenly. "Do you have any runes left? Ones that are visible?"

"I think so," Max said, brushing aside her long, dark hair and pulling at the neck of her black shirt to reveal a few fading runes on her left shoulder.

"452?" the patient asked in a disbelieving voice. 

"Who the hell are you?" Max asked, her tone irate.

"Max," Alec cut in before the other man could reveal himself, "may I introduce Doctor Alexander Sandeman?"

"What?" Max asked in shock, her eyes wide and her mouth open. 

"Max," Sandeman whispered gently.

"You're him? The person who left us to grow up in a fucking hellhole as slaves to the all-powerful Donald Lydecker and his hench-bitch Renfro? The guy who decided he could play chimera god and turn my skin into an indecipherable message board whenever he damn well pleased?" Max's voice was uncharacteristically quiet, and the evil words didn't pack quite the punch they usually did coming out of the female transgenic's mouth.

"I suppose that's one way of putting it," Sandeman replied, shame slightly lacing his resolute voice.

"So, if you're him, you're also the guy who supposed to make sense of all this, right?" She added in a mere whisper. 

"To the best of my ability," he pledged.

Max nodded, glanced at Alec, and took a seat to the right of Alexander Sandeman. Alec took the seat to his left.

"So," Max said, her natural attitude beginning to return, "start making some sense."

Sandeman sighed deeply and folded his hands, resting his forehead pensively on the platform he'd made.

"Where do I begin?" he asked rhetorically. 

"Try the beginning," Max shot sarcastically.

Sandeman grinned. "As you wish."

"I guess it starts with the Familiars. I survived the initiation with little trouble, though I did develop a bit of influenza shortly afterwards. I was the first to survive without question, and it fascinated the Conclave. That started my climb in the Familiar community. I moved up the purebred ladder, securing a place in the Conclave at the age of eighteen. I was attending Harvard University at that point; the Conclave believed that even though I may be a 'Senior Member' of sorts as far as the Familiars went, they wanted to provide education for their child prodigy. I worked all through school, though there was no need, my tuition was already paid. But that money helped me immensely later in life. I lived under my alias Mark Szeushae, a name which was more me at that point that Alexander Sandeman was. I lived in a flat with three of my classmates; my girlfriend, Angelina, whom I'd falsely convinced the Conclave was used strictly for cover, and my friend Dave and his lady friend Leelee. We had a damn good time, just living like young adults should; though I had to be sure to fly under the radar. The Familiars are everywhere, and sometimes you can never know who is part of it, so I had to watch my back. Everything you can imagine, I think we did multiple times. We were happy, living together and partying like the children we still were. But then, something went wrong.

"The Conclave wanted me to marry; a pure blood pairing, of course, and take my place as a man in the Conclave. In other words, produce a child to be raised in the way of the Familiars and to carry on our legacy. I married a Familiar named Gabriella Duxchene, a renowned member of our little cult. Most couples only had one child, after the first two definitive stillborns. Some tried for more to impress the Conclave, but there had never been a second child who was born alive. We were perfectly happy with Ames, our son, and the Conclave was absolutely thrilled, considering my position as well as Gabriella's high standing. I continued on with my dealings in the Conclave, and Gabby stayed at home with Ames until he was old enough to be taken in by a governess. He was such a wonderful child…" Sandeman drifted off slightly, sighing lightly and quickly continuing. 

"Then something happened. I was unable to continue my studies, though I'd already achieved my doctorate degree by then, so I was forced to abandon my life as a young adult. I spent all of my time with either The Conclave, Ames, or Gabriella. Then Gabby got pregnant again. The Conclave was in favor of destroying the child due to the past track record with second children, as not to endanger the mother. But I was skeptic. I wanted my child to have a chance. So the Conclave allowed Gabby to carry the baby full term. And Christopher Joseph was born. The Conclave was once again shocked, as CJ was the first second child to be born alive. CJ was a sweet little boy, so caring. He and his brother were very close when they were young. Each other's best friend. The two of them grew up quickly, and before I knew it, Ames was old enough to be initiated. His mother and I were nervous, but confident he'd do well. He was a strong boy, we knew he'd pull through. We waited until after the ceremony, and then went to see him. He was ill, but he could've been worse. He recovered within six hours.

"Ames began his training with the rest of the children at that point. He was instructed in infiltration and combat. He was happy at Brookridge, he belonged there. I was there often with the Conclave, and Gabby was an instructor there, so we were never away from him for long. Things were going perfectly, until The Conclave proposed The Coming."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Zack sauntered over to the group of transgenics in the corner. His family. He hadn't said much of anything to any of them yet, except for Max and Brin, neither of which was among the group. He'd had to take care of Lydecker. Zack was the only one who knew he was there, regardless of the shit he had fed Lydecker about Max wanting him tied up until she could deal with him. And Maggie knew, because she'd seem him tied in the shadows, where he still was, due to Zack's determination to torture him as much as possible. But she'd had to leave for some supply run for some of the anomalies nearby, leaving Zack to himself. And so he'd finally gotten the opportunity to rejoin his siblings. He remained hidden in the shadows, unseen by anyone, listening to the conversation.

"California is really quite beautiful," Jondy was saying, "for a Post-Pulse city, that is. I hear it was a hell of a lot better before the Pulse."

"Yeah," Zane added, "I stayed there for a while. Made my way through the southwest for a while. You can have one hell of a time down near the Mexican boarder, and in the southeast," he caught Jondy's eye and the both said simultaneously, "Mardi Gras."

Krit chuckled lightly. "I never really left the area, kept pretty close between Gillette and Seattle. Spent some down time in Canada and such, but never went any farther south than northern California."

"Same here," Syl offered. "Though one time I did make it to Chicago. Didn't stay too long though." 

Zack decided that it was a good time to jump in.

"Yeah, Chicago's ok. New York's better. Even more entertaining is Boston, or Providence. DC is definitely not worth the time, though. But the best, by far, is Cleveland. Streets, people, fun, and, of course, rock 'n roll." 

Four heads turned immediately and focused in on the figure casually leaning against the wall.

"But then again, it's been awhile since I've been there. Been spending a lot of time in Oregon, though," Zack added wryly, waiting for a reaction from the four transgenics staring openmouthed at him.

They maintained the shocked silence.

Zack rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. This is absurd. Has to be the first time the four of you have been rendered speechless." 

Syl was the first to speak. "Zack?"

"Yeah," he replied, suddenly a quite uncomfortable. 

"Can't be," Krit muttered in a barely audible tone.

"Why not?" Zack asked him.

"Because you…" Krit began.

"Because I was dead? No, don't think so. Well, I was. _Was._ Sometimes I wish I would have stayed that way. But no, good old Manticore doesn't let anyone die. _No one_ just _dies_. They put you through hell until you died there. And then if you wouldn't die there, they thought up something new to put you through until the death. A continuous vicious cycle."

The four transgenics sat in silent shock and awe once more, staring at their Once-Thought-Dead Brother Zack with wide eyes and slightly opened mouths.

Zack, never having been good with emotions to begin with, and having had his little experience with such things shaken up so badly they were of no use, he shrugged, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and fell into an overstuffed chair in the corner. 

"So," he began once more. "Anyone been to Florida? I only made it down to the Orlando area once or twice…"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"The Coming was to be the ultimate test of strength, of power, of status," Alexander Sandeman began. "There was no place for the weak amongst the ranks of The Familiars. The Conclave had dubbed our current form of testing…"

"The snake blood," Max interrupted.

"Not snake blood alone. It was at the time. But the Familiars, as I said, dubbed that form of testing to be ineffective. It was cobra blood, with a few tweaks to make it more lethal. But the Familiar Community was growing too quickly and by too many numbers for The Conclave's liking. So they upped the stakes a bit. They decided that they would use a combination of the cobra blood and coral snake venom to ensure less candidates of surviving the initiation. But that wasn't enough for them. They believed that it was possible for the weak to intertwine their way into our ranks even after the induction was over. And also that strong adolescents did not ensure strong adults. So they wanted to instill a final test. One to be sure to wipe out the weaklings in both Familiar and Global Society. To guarantee the reign of the Familiars for generations, millennia, to come. They proposed The Coming.

The Coming was really quite simple, though a stroke of pure genius. It was mainly the work of two of the members of The Conclave; an elder member, Goustav Lembaas of Asia, he was Russian if I'm not mistaken, and a Mystiquea LaDorn, a middle-aged woman from Europe. France, I believe. They proposed an air born toxin, a terrorist device, a pathogen so powerful that its instant lethality would be unimaginable. But the time frame was somewhat disturbing. According to tradition, nothing so drastic was done without the passing of seven _Katara_ ceremonies, or the passing of at least seven years. The pathogen would take field-testing, revision, and then a group of foolish young individuals to appear to have created the pathogen themselves, in order to avoid becoming suspected of such creations.

"It was a risky business, that was well established. It could very well be created too strong, too potent, and wipe us all off the face of the planet. It could be that some of our most trusted and valued members would be killed. But The Conclave was blinded by their quest for unquestionable purity, and they weren't concerned with their own well being or the well being of those who were key in the success of the Familiars. 

"The planning was grueling. Gabriella was in position of Supervising Professor at Brookridge, and I was given the opportunity to work alongside her and many other prestigious scientists in the Familiar Community in creating a prototype of the pathogen. We were a small group, comprised of myself, my wife, a young woman named Amanda Viau, a young man named Jonathan Hall, a middle aged woman named Wanda Vegal, and a middle aged man named William Doerge. We worked day and night, our children in the hands of other Familiars, both CJ and Ames in the care of The Conclave. Coincidentally, not one of us agreed with the measures that The Conclave had proposed we take. They feared that anything as potent as what we had been instructed to create would wipe out most if not all of the world population, Familiars included. But there was no way that we could blatantly disrespect The Conclave, even with my position, without extreme consequences. So we created something, a covert operation that would secretly halt the plans of The Conclave. I proposed Project Chimera, but Gabby insisted that this sounded quite inadequate, something much less poetic than the usual Familiar would use. And so she dubbed the program Project Manticore."

"We began small. We knew that we'd want to create a race of superhumans, but we were unsure how to approach it. We thought of performance enhancers and other such chemical refinements, but it was Jonathon's idea to try DNA merging. We contemplated human and Familiar combinations, but animal DNA proved to be the most effective. The real decision was whether we were to use Familiar or human DNA to merge with the animal combinations. As unimportant as it sounds, it was one of the most imperative decision we had to make. But we did use Familiar DNA in the end. So you are all quite similar to the Familars themselves. Siblings, for lack of better term, in more ways than one.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Ames White sat at his desk, his dark hair hanging a bit in his face. He'd decided that he liked the loosely framing style better than the one he'd had before. 

He clicked the mouse in his hand fervently, watching the large, high-resolution screen of the laptop quickly go from one frame to the next. He'd always hated the touch pads most laptops were equipped with.

He watched the clip. Again. And again. He continued to watch it until it was etched completely into his mind, and even afterwards, in case he'd remembered it wrong.

__

Poor kid. Mom's gone...dad's a freak...Not exactly the storybook ending we were hoping for. 

'Bitch,' Ames thought. 'What the hell would she know about it? And she's in the perfect position to be dealing out the title of freak, now, isn't she?' He smirked malevolently.

__

Well, at least we got him away from those people.

'Those people? We were his family. His only family. He belongs with us.'

__

That's what Wendy wanted. 

That was a low blow. 'Wendy,' White though to himself. He hadn't wanted things to end up the way they did. He'd loved the woman. She was his wife. His confidant. He'd enjoyed her presence, and was proud to have her bear his child. Even though she was a mere human, it hadn't mattered. He had _loved_ her. But what other choice had he had? He couldn't have let her live once she'd found out…

__

Oh, I talked to her sister, by the way. She's on her way down. Made arrangements to get her and Ray on a plane, as far away from White as I can. 

Deann. Deann Margruite, if he wasn't mistaken. And he wasn't. Wendy's only sibling; her younger sister by two years. She lived in Ontario, but if she was coming to Seattle, and taking Ray as far away as Mr. All Powerful Eyes Asshole could get her… But then Ray woke up. He loved that part.

__

Hey, Ray. How you feeling? 

'How dare you talk to my son, 452. How dare you.'

__

Okay. Did I pass? Am I strong? 

Ames smiled. "You did fine. You're as strong as anyone, Ray. Strong as anyone," he said to the empty room.

__

You did fine. 

The video cut there, but Ames didn't need any more. His son was alive. That's all he needed to know. As long as his son was alive on this earth, he would find him. But, The All-Powerful Eyes Only had made it even easier than even that.

White clicked his mouse a few more times, magnifying the frame. He moved the cursor upward, choosing a clarification command. The enlarged image became readable. A computer screen itself. And a large piece of paper.

__

Paris 

Sister can't speak French, Arouse suspicion

London

Not allowing incoming flights; national security breach

Sydney

Housing???

Phoenix

And the paper was blank. But it didn't stop there. The computer screen finalized the plans.

__

Flight Departure: Seattle, Washington; USA

Flight Destination: Phoenix, Arizona; USA

Departure Date: 3-21-21

Departure Time: 3:15 AM

And as if that wasn't enough, another window was visible, displaying a modest, but quaint ranch type house.

__

5987 Marklin Avenue

Pheonix, AZ

So there it was. His son was in Phoenix.

White grinned. He printed the frame, dialing a number on his desk phone as the paper came out. He switched the call to speakerphone, the incessant ringing vibrating around the very large office.

"Special Agent Gottlieb," the voice sounded throughout the room.

"Otto," White said, very pleased with himself. "Do you know how long it would take to wage war on the transgenic community housed in Terminal City?"

"That I do not, sir," Otto replied.

"In a matter of days they could be wiped out. The element of surprise is on our side. They wouldn't know what hit them."

"Excuse my asking, sir, but if it would be so simple, why is it that we haven't taken action as of yet?"

"Well, Otto. That's a valid question. We were under the impression that the transgenics had valuable information about a kidnapping of a young boy. Acting as one of the head forces in the counter attack, I knew that we would have to wait until the information was extracted before we acted."

"Very good, sir. Then what good would it be to even think of attack at this point, sir?" 

"Well, Otto," White replied in sadistic pleasure. "That's the thing. It seems that we've attained the information we've been looking for. And, in doing so, the lives of the transgenics serve no existing purpose. And so, you'll need to do two things. Book me the next outgoing flight to Phoenix, Arizona, and schedule a meeting with my superiors for the day I return. The transgenics' days are numbered." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"So," Max said, an odd edge to her voice. "You figured you cook up some lovely genetic mistakes to fight your war for you. Easy enough. Then how did Manticore come around?"

"The 'Manticore' of which you speak was never a part of our plans. But our if you're inquiring about the progression of our research, that's comes next. Patience is a virtue we never perfected in your genetic makeup, Max. You are obviously lacking in that department."

"And what would you know about it?" Max shot back viciously. 

"I meant no offense," Sandeman countered. "Patience often gets in the way. I posses very little, if any of it myself. But never mind it. On with the story."

"I remember our research progressing well. We were proud. We had created beings. But they were not human. Real hybrids, in both genetic makeup and coding as well as in appearance."

"The anomalies." Max whispered.

"Is that what you called them, as well?"

"Yes," Max began, but stopped. "Can we talk about them afterward?"

"Whatever you wish. Anyway, we had accomplished so much, yet so little. The first anomalies were too deformed and did not survive more than a week. But we were so close. We had the plans; we only had to act on them. However, it was at this point that CJ was old enough to be initiated. It was at this point that I had to make a choice. One that would affect everyone in my family."

"CJ said that you tested his DNA. Said that he wouldn't have survived the snake blood thing."

"When did you meet my son?" Sandeman asked seriously.

"Only a few weeks ago," Alec spoke up. "Ames took him away. He said he'd been locked up to begin with, I'm sure that's how he is now."

Sandeman nodded solemnly. "I see. You are correct. CJ would not have survived. I suspected it, but the DNA tests proved it. But such testing was against the rules of the Conclave. They were not happy when they found out…"

__

"Alexander," Miagrie, one of the females addressed him. He stepped forward into the dimly lighted room that the Conclave spent most of their time in. If there was one thing he liked about the Conclave, it was their lack of light. He'd never been one for lighted areas.

"Alexander," Bertram, the presiding member at that particular meeting, began, "we would like to know the current status of your work."

Alexander swallowed. "Very good, sir."

"This is pleasing to hear, Alexander," Bertram continued. "And what of your boy, Christopher Joseph?"

"With all do respect to the Conclave," Alexander said with obvious mock reverence, but none of the members seem to notice. "I do not believe that CJ will survive the initiation."

"What?" Cuitine, another female member asked in shock. "We're talking thousands of years of tradition, Alexander. Your son is most likely to survive."

"I will not take that chance," Alexander argued.

"Where are these ideas coming from?" Samuel asked from the shadows.

Alexander remained silent.

"I know," a voice came from the back of the room. Everyone turned, except for Alexander. He knew exactly who was speaking.

Jullianna Katan never liked Alexander. She envied him, and did whatever she could to spite him. And he was more that aware that she was about to bring the world crashing down around him within minutes.

"Alexander has not been working on The Coming. It is a different project. I do not know the details, but it has to do with DNA manipulation. He tested his son's DNA. His son is not strong enough to survive the initiation."

Alexander glared at Jullianna, but remained composed. 

"Alexander," Bertram said slowly, "you know that testing DNA before initiation is unheard of. It is heresy. And as Cuitine said, we are talking about thousands of years of tradition, Alexander."

"Screw tradition," Alexander said levelly. "I will not watch my son die. Not if I can prevent it. This system of doing things is not ethical. To kill innocent children only because they were born genetically weaker than another child? That is heresy. Murder, even. I will not allow you to murder my son." 

"Alexander Sandeman is not fit for his position in the Conclave, let alone his position in the society of the Familiars. Either he change his ways or parish," Jullianna declared powerfully, he full, red lips curving into an unnaturally satisfied grin. Malice and greed dripped from her words as she spat them for the rest of Conclave to evaluate.

"You will change your ways," a small, yet resolute voice said from behind Alexander. "Won't you?"

"Ames," Alexander said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

"A very good question." Bertram cried out in irritation. "Young man, you are only permitted to be here when we allow it. Now is not a good time. Leave at once!"

"Don't you dare talk to my son that way!" Alexander spat at the elderly man, then turned to his son. "Ames, go to your mother. Tell her that I need to speak with her."

Ames didn't move.

"Won't you?" he repeated. Alexander sighed.

"I will not let your brother die, Ames." Then, to the entire room: "I am willing to work with you concerning this matter. I am willing to aide you, should you chose to accept my theory. We must find another way to judge the strength of the Familiars. A safe way. It is vital to our survival. The science and technology we would be able to make use of is spectacular, it would benefit us greatly…"

"No, Ames," Jullianna said wryly. "It is obvious that you are traitorous and cannot be trusted. You shall be put to death!"

"No, he shall not," Bertram interrupted. "Alexander is the model Familiar, and for being such and will allow a slight exception. He will be given twenty-four hours to evacuate the premises. Should he not, he will then be put to death. And should you threaten us in any way, we will hunt you down, and the sentence will be executed. You understand, do you not?"

Alexander said nothing, but spat in the old man's face in a very childish manner and spun around and left the room. His son, Ames, still had not moved from his position against the back wall. 

"And so that was how it went. I fled, with my wife and CJ. We evacuated all of our research that night as well. Ames remained with The Conclave, and was forever convinced that I was the enemy. CJ later left for Europe. We sent him there in an attempt to protect him. Gabby and I settled into a life in the Massachusetts area, and continued our development. We had plans that we believed would create the supersoldiers we were looking for. But we needed an investor. That investor was found in the Renfro Family. 

"William Renfro VIII backed our research and gave us two facilities in the Northwest United States: one in Seattle, and one in Gillette. We started in Gillette, and we created the more sophisticated anomalies, the transhumans, and the first of the X Series, all of which we incredibly intellectual. The X1s were primitive humans in appearance, but physically advanced in ways never before believed possible. The X2s and X3s were similar. The X4s, however, looked just like humans. The only problem was that some of them retained more animalistic characteristics than intended, and a few drew suspicion by barking, growling, hissing, roaring, etcetera. Then came the X5s. 

"You were the perfect model. You had all of the physical attributes that we had aimed for, as well as the intelligence, and the attractive appearances you were intended to have. That was when Lydecker came in."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Hello?"

"Hello," a very breathless Miranda Lithel replied. "Special Agent Ames White, please."

"One moment."

Miranda was practically dancing around the apartment she had recently occupied. She had to tell Brother White about what she'd found out in the time she'd been there. It was almost providential that she'd had such wonderful fortune in finding so much useful information in the shot time that she was there. If she had believed in that sort of thing, of course. 

"I'm sorry," the voice on the other side of the phone said, not sounding the least bit sorry, "Agent White left a just few hours ago."

"Where did he go?" Miranda demanded.

"That information is classified…" the voice said as Miranda hung up the phone in disgust.

"Well," Miranda said to herself, "Agent White's getting a private call, then."

She dialed a series of numbers, far more than any normal phone number required. Then she waited. 

"Fe'nos tol," the female voice on the other line greeted the caller coldly and without emotion.

"I need to locate a Familiar by the name of Ames White."

There was slight pause on the other line.

"I'm sorry," the monotone voice said slowly, "There is no one listed by that name."

Miranda paused. "Try Ames Sandeman." 

There was another pause. "He left for Phoenix, Arizona this morning."

"I need contact information."

"Name, please?"

"Miranda Lithel."

Another Pause.

"His private number is listed as 521-197-8452."

"Connect me. Fe'nos tol."

Miranda waited as the line went dead and picked up once more.

"Hello," a very abrupt male voice sounded on the other line.

"Fe'nos tol, Brother White."

"Miss Lithel, I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment…"

"Donald Lydecker is in Terminal City."

"Is he, now?" White asked, less than enthused. "And you found this bit of information important enough to bother me with on my private line because?"

"He was pronounced dead, for one thing. He was the director of the Manticore Program for years. But that's not why I called."

"Then why, Lithel?"

"Because someone else is here."

"And that person would be?"

"I haven't seen him, but everyone here is talking about him."

"First off, Miranda," White replied in a deadly tone, emphasizing her name with obvious distaste, "do not refer to them with such a human term as 'everyone.' They are not human. And secondly, do not take the word of the Transgenic Community seriously. They are lying assassins, and they cannot be trusted by anyone. Now, get to the point. Who do you _think_ is there?"

"Alexander Sandeman, sir."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"McKinley," the middle aged senator answered the call stiffly.

"Senator," White greeted him without regard to status. 

"Ames," McKinley addressed him curtly over the phone. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to the young man, it was just that he was about to leave for a very important meeting. He needed to be brief.

"I need to get in touch with Daemeon," Ames replied purposefully. The Senator promptly disregarded all plans on attending his scheduled meeting.

"You're ranked, Ames," McKinley said slowly, "and very highly favored with Daemeon. Hell, he attended your son's initiation, one of the only initiations he's ever shown his face for, mind you. What more could you ask for? But you should know the man is busy. His very presence anywhere brings honor and prominence. Why are you looking for him?"

"Seems as if the all powerful Eyes Only isn't so all powerful any more."

"Ames, this is no time for your cryptic little hints."

"I found Ray."

"Your son Ray is alive?"

"Well, obviously."

The Senator sighed, a response to his shock. He'd heard the whole story. Ray was considered dead, and a huge loss to the Familiar community. The only reason they hadn't wiped out the Transgenics, or at least made a move, was because of Ames' adamancy to finding his son, plus the plans for The Coming had not yet been finalized. But they were now complete, and they hadn't been carried out yet all because of Ames Sandeman.

"And another thing."

The Senator perked up a bit. "Yes?"

"Looks like if we take out the transgenics, we'll be taking out a few other minor annoyances as well."

"Again with the cryptic nature, Ames?"

White could be heard snarling subtly on the other line. "Sandeman and Lydecker are rumored to be in Terminal City."

"What?" The Senator asked in disbelief.

"Exactly what I said." White replied abruptly. "Have Daemeon contact me if he's available, and please extend all of my gratitude to him. I need to retrieve my son."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Donald Lydecker was not the most compliant individual I've ever met. He refused to accept that the project was mine, and I was still at the head of it. The government simply wanted to become more learned about what I was doing. I wasn't pleased, but Dr. Renfro asked me to at least try to work with them. He was a wonderful man, and asked very little. Before the government came in, all he wanted was for his daughter, Elizabeth, to be able to have some assignment on the project. That wasn't difficult, however. The young woman was exceptionally bright and ambitious. But Lydecker was not so easy to work with.

__

"This project would greatly benefit the government," Donald said firmly. "I will inform them of this, and they will take over the operation."

"This is my project, Lydecker. You will not have control over it," Sandeman retorted with just as much determination.

"You're foolish, Alexander."

"Foolish, perhaps. But at least I've made something of myself."

"As have I."

Sandeman snorted malevolently. "That is amazingly obvious," he replied sarcastically. 

Lydecker simply shot wicked glares at the Doctor.

"Would you reconsider if I could tell you something about your wife's death?"

Lydecker turned deadly. "What do you know?"

"Who killed her."

"Who was it?"

"Ah, but you need to agree to my terms first."

"Fuck you, Sandeman."

"Language gets you no where in life, Don."

"You Son of a Bitch…"

"The proposition is open. It's up to you."

Sandeman turned and promptly swept out of the room.

"I hated to bring his wife into it. I really did. I've never considered myself an evil man, but I was desperate. And yes, I did know who killed his wife. My son Ames's friend Elise. It was her first assassination, and Ames was nervous about it, to say the least. They were romantically involved at the time, even though the Conclave didn't normally pair children off until their twenty-first birthdays. Needless to say, he was a wreck. No one was allowed near her the day of the job. It's a big thing in our little cult. Isolation 24 hours before your first kill. Almost a second initiation, really. But she, obviously, carried it out without a problem. It was quite a prominent accomplishment for her in the Familiar Society. But this is unimportant. On with the story you are interested in.

"Well, eventually, I lost my battle with Lydecker. He brought in the military, and threatened the life of my children and wife. I sent my wife away, but refused to leave myself. That was when they took Gabby. They simply tracked her down and kidnapped her. That was when I gave up. I never did find out for sure what happened to her, no matter how hard I tried. I'm sure she's dead by now. The government has no problem with collateral damage, nor do they take any prisoners. And that brings us up to when the X5s were around the age of two, when you were first able to retain childhood memories."

"Well," Alec said, "that clears some things up. But you still didn't explain about the runes."

"Ah, yes. The runes. All right. It won't take long, now that you know the basics. But it's complex. And I can't tell you everything; it would jeopardize what little hope there is left. But yes, on with the runes."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"May I help you?" The young woman who answered the door asked timidly. _'The sister,'_ White thought. She had Wendy's nose. And the same eyes, though Wendy's had been more beautiful. So captivating. He'd loved her eyes. He mentally shook himself, taking in the woman more indiscriminately. _'Not half bad.'_

"Ma'am," White said confidently, "My name is Agent Sandeman." He almost cringed at using the name. "I'm here to speak with about your nephew, Ray."

"Ray?" she asked in a horribly transparent attempt at innocence.

"Yes. Ray White."

"Uh, well, come in then," she gave in, ushering him inside.

"Thank you," he said as he followed her in.

"Sit down," she said politely. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you," Ames replied.

She nodded and walked out of the room. Ames took in the small area as he waited for her to return.

The light blue paint in the room, and the scent of rose and juniper. A different combination. And strawberries. The sweet smell of strawberries.

The seascape border near the ceiling. 

The cherry trim and crown molding.

The light casting shadows around the room through the almost impressionistic-patterned drapes. 

His eyes then wandered to the mantle.

A picture of the woman and who he assumed to be her husband.

A vase of roses, explaining the rose scent.

Birthday cards on the mantle.

A clock, slowly ticking the seconds away in a circular motion.

A green candle. Undoubtedly juniper.

And a small frame. It couldn't be seen unless you were really looking, as if it wasn't meant to be seen, but wasn't supposed to be taken down. One that contained a very familiar photograph. A small picture of Ray, alone with his mother, next to one of Ray, barely recognizable in an oversized black cloak, being held by a kneeling Ames that couldn't be seen under his hood.

"Beautiful boy, isn't he?" the woman's voice commented from behind him. Accompanied by the scent of strawberries.

"He is," White replied in all honesty.

"How much do you know about his situation?"

"Not much," Ames lied.

"His mother was killed by his father, who belonged to some type of cult. The father was trying to get him involved. It became quite dangerous. Little Ray was in very poor health when he came to us. A very nice man arranged for us to take him. I'm surprised that his father hasn't come looking for him yet. But Mr. Cale assured us we'd be safe." She blanched, realizing that she'd most likely said too much, and then straightened.

"Ray's in his room," she said softly. "I'll get him."

"No," Ames said desperately, but nonchalantly at the same time. "I always find it better to talk to children in a neutral environment. I'll wait outside. Send him out, and we can take a quick walk."

The woman appeared suspicious, but nodded in agreement. "Alright. One moment."

Ames sauntered casually outside, strategically placing himself near a tree in the front yard, his back to the door. All there was left to do was wait.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"The runes were encoded into your DNA, along with numerous other things that none of the other transgenics have. Both of you were to have them, when the time and circumstances were correct. They're hormone-induced, and you're both genetically coded to produce unique hormones under appropriate circumstances to trigger the appearance of the runes. It was a precaution, in case I wasn't around to have this conversation with you at Manticore. As it turns out, it was a good thing that I too it. You see, your lovely escape, 452, put a dint in many of our plans. I had observed you until I left, but I had given standing orders to transfer you from the Gillette Facility to the one in Seattle. To grown up with 494, to learn together, to come to be able to depend on each other willingly, as you would once be forced to. And that's really all that I can say at the time. I could tell you what they say, I mean, that was the original plan, though I'd rather do that with all of the record you have of the previous runes, assuming you have them." The two nodded simultaneously. Sandeman laughed slightly.

"I must admit that I was concerned whether the two of you would ever grow to tolerate each other. But it looks like you seem to be getting along just fine…" he trailed off, waiting for some kind of confirmation from the two transgenics. Max looked over at Alec briefly, but he was avoiding her eyes. She looked down quickly when his gaze rose, dodging the confrontational meeting of the eyes. Sandeman grinned.

"Why don't we go and look at those records, eh?" he said, attempting to lighten the mood. Alec rose from his seat almost instantaneously, followed closely by Max.

"You should really stay here. Not only do you need those cuts cleaned," Alec gestured to the man's face, "but if anyone recognizes you out there, you never know how they'll react."

Max nodded in agreement. "You should stay here. We'll bring the records down as soon as possible."

Sandeman sighed. "Whatever you say."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Now Ray," Ames heard the woman's voice travelling from the house, "just talk to the man. He's here to help."

"Why?" Ray asked innocently.

"Because he only wants what's best for you."

"How do you know?"

The aunt sighed. "Ray, please. Just talk to him, he's waiting out there." She pointed toward the tree.

Ray stared at the figure for a few moments, knowing that it was familiar. But how…

"All right," Ray conceded. "I'm going."

"That's a good boy," his aunt said as she gave him a gentle shove out the door.

She made the mistake of walking away before seeing where he went off to.

Ray walked to the opposite of the tree where the man was standing. He looked like a man involved with the government. Like someone who had come to get him because he was a Familiar. And he _was_ a Familiar. A real one too; he'd survived. His aunt didn't know that. She knew that he'd almost become one, but she never knew that he'd actually 'passed the test.' And now, Ray was smart enough to know to avoid someone as suspicious as the man behind the tree.

He sauntered down the sidewalk, ignoring the piercing gaze of the man behind him. He could feel his eyes on him, and he could faintly hear the footsteps following him.

Ray increased his pace, and, to his surprise the footsteps ceased. He paused, but didn't not turn around. He moved to continue walking, but a voice froze him in his tracks.

"What's wrong, Ray?" the voice asked, concerned. 

"Nothing," he knew that voice. But it couldn't be him. There was no way it could be. Was there?

"Then why are you running from me? Running from your home?"

"Because this isn't my home," he said with a hate and regret that didn't belong in one so young. "And I don't want it to be. I want to _go_ home."

"Do you really?" the voice asked, trying to sound cynical, but failing miserably.

"Of course," Ray turned, meeting his father's eyes.

"Dad?" Ray asked, disbelieving. 

"Ray," Ames replied softly as Ray ran to him. He wrapped his arms around his son, Ray doing likewise.

"Everyone thought you were dead, Ray," Ames said to no one in particular. "But I knew that you weren't. I knew."

"That I was dead? They told me _you_ were dead," Ray said slowly.

"Dead?" Ames asked, anger lacing his voice. 

Ray nodded. "The man with the glasses said so first, and then Aunt Deann and Uncle David said so, too. I thought…"

"It's all right now, everything's going to be just fine." 

__

'Just fine. Everything will be just fine. After I kill the two people in that house, that is.' Ames thought._ 'And Mr. Cale. No one lies to my son.' _

"Come on, Ray," Ames said softly. "We're going home."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Thank you very much," Doctor Sandeman said politely to Ronnie as she finished tending to a large gash on his arm. "You're quite skilled at medicine. Did you train long in the trade?"

Ronnie laughed slightly. "Train? I had some instruction back at Manticore, but it was mostly just watching and then doing. I was down in medical for tests far too often not to pick something up."

"I see," Sandeman said slowly, looking to change the subject. "How long have you been here? If you don't mind he asking…" 

"Oh, it's fine. I've been here since around January, right after Alec started coming and bringing some order to the place. Max moved in a short time after. I've been in medical since the siege started."

"Do you enjoy it?"

Ronnie paused. "I like to help people. This is the only way I can see to do that. Not like I can do much else with this look." She gestured to her aquatic features.

"I think you look lovely," Sandeman said softly.

Ronnie looked slightly stunned and turned to him. "Really?"

"Of course. And besides, medicine is the most effective way to help others. Lives are in your hands. You can determine life or death on a whim. You hold a very powerful position."

Ronnie smiled softly. "I suppose I never thought of it that way." And with that, she was gone. 

Sandeman sighed, leaning back on the small cot and resting his eyes slightly. He was aroused instantaneously, however, by an uncannily familiar voice.

"Ronnie," the rough voice barked. "Ronnie. Ronnie…."

"Joshua," Sandeman heard Ronnie greet the voice. "What can I do for you?"

"Max and Alec want me to bring someone to Command. Escort man who came with Alec. Protect him."

"Surely. He's all patched up and shouldn't have any further problems. He's right in there."

Sandeman heard heavy footfalls coming his way while the lighter, more elegant ones of the nurse walked in the opposite direction. Sandeman, however, was unprepared for the large dog-man that came barging in so suddenly. The large anomaly appeared to be ready to speak, but stopped abruptly when he saw the man lying in front of him.

"Father?" Joshua stammered. 

"Joshua?" Sandeman asked slowly in return, almost unsure of how to react.

"Father," Joshua repeated with childish enthusiasm, and in a moment was at the man's bedside, capturing him in a bone-crushing hug. Had it not been for the Familiars' high pain tolerance, he may have become considerably uncomfortable, but instead, he returned the embrace. 

"Joshua," Sandeman said as he patted Joshua on the back paternally. 

And they stayed there for an extended period of time, almost like father and son. Almost.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Alec collapsed into an old, overstuffed chair, sighing deeply. He rested is head in his heads, his elbows propped on his knees. Rubbing his temples rhythmically, he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. This was just too much.

"Alec?" he could hear behind him. _'Max,'_ he thought. He considered ignoring her, not out of anger, annoyance, or playfulness, but in an attempt to retain as much of his sanity as he could. Because on the sanity front, things weren't looking too good.

"Max," he replied, distracted. 

"A bit overwhelming, huh?" Max asked, plopping down next to him. 

"A bit," Alec admitted.

"Can I see?" Mac asked almost tentatively.

"See what?" Alec asked, confused.

"Your runes. I mean, you saw mine, and you were the first to notice them. And I was the first to notice yours. And well…" she trailed off, realizing how childish she was sounding and crossing her arms in both defense of her argument, as well as in frustration. "Just stick out your damn arm."

This made Alec grin slightly. He nodded his head in mock reverence. "Whatever you say."

He put his arm forward, rotating it slowly. Max scrutinized the markings on his skin, and then said slowly, "I didn't have that many." 

"Is that good or bad?" Alec asked sarcastically.

She shrugged. "Neither, I suppose. Just stating the facts." 

He rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. "Don't you always?"

She hit him playfully in response.

"I am so definitely going drinking tonight," Alec commented to no one in particular.

"Uh…Alec?" Max asked tentatively. "Where are you going to _get_ a drink?"

"At the bar, Derek always has something."

"Settling for just the average 'something' these days, huh?"

Alec looked at her, his expression indecipherable. "Desperate time call for desperate measures."

Max only nodded in response.

"Wanna come with?" Alec asked suddenly. Max looked at him strangely, not comprehending what he meant.

"To get a drink."

"Oh," she replied dumbly. "Ok."

And so they walked silently together towards the small, beat up building that served to satisfy the unending craving for alcohol the transgenic community had been so generously gifted with.

And as they walked away, a small, lithe figure stepped out of the shadows.

"Interesting," Miranda Lithel said quietly to herself. "Very interesting, indeed."

Please Review


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